


Patterns

by e1even



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha!Iwaizumi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega!Oikawa, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-03-24 15:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3774001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1even/pseuds/e1even
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were things they always came back to. Some of those things were each other.<br/>Or, Oikawa gets hit by an early heat, Iwaizumi carries him home. Something changes for the both of them.</p><p>(Omegaverse!Iwaoi with Omega!Oikawa, and Alpha!Iwaizumi. Small angst, very little plot. Tags will be updated as required.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Routine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a de-anon, originally submitted to the nsfw--hq tumblr under the name '11Anon'. Though, I'm not really sure if it counts as a de-anon if I got an account to properly archive these kinds of things. First time I'm going to try and unite all the things I write under one name, here goes!

Their second year, some days, some nights after the Aoba Jousai volleyball team lost to Shiratorizawa. Iwaizumi wonders how the choices in his life lead him here.

Oikawa was being his usual (annoying) self, and was here late (again) practicing (again).

It was more heavy guilt and self-depreciation than want to be annoying that drove him, Iwaizumi knew that, but, what was really annoying was that the bastard was taking forever to shower.

Oikawa had been a bit off lately, probably because he was pushing himself too hard in the wake of their defeat. Iwaizumi had forced him into the locker room to wash up and pack up maybe half an hour ago, really, how long did he need?

He shoved the door open. If Oikawa didn't want to come out, he could sit with him. Or drag him home. Either way.

"Assikawa! Did your fangirls find you or something?"

It doesn't take him more than a few steps into the deserted locker room to figure out that something might be wrong.

"Iwa-chan..."

Iwaizumi almost doesn't hear him over the sound of running water.

"...Oikawa?"

He was concerned now. Of course he was concerned now. The asshole might be passing out and the shower might be the worst possible place to do that. Oikawa's voice was quiet and had none of it's usual lilt. Was he even in the shower?

"Iwa-chaaan."

That fucking nickname, so much louder as he nears it's probable source makes him inhale sharply.

Was that ever a huge mistake.

Iwaizumi just faintly is able to register that holy crap, that smell was not there before, and underneath thick recognition of good, there was a piece of him that recognized that, holy shit, that was Oikawa.

When the hell did Oikawa smell like that?

...Why?

Iwaizumi gains a little focus back, noticing he's leaning against the wall with one arm, and his mind proclaiming that fuck, this, this was bad. This was really bad.

"You're in _heat._ "

Shit, from this close, he can hear Oikawa's panting, and the little, desperate breathy noises he keeps making.

"I-Iwa-chan, I know."

He was not going to look at him.

He looks at him.

Oikawa was braced against the wall, just like he was. Oh god, he was flushed all over. He's just standing under the shower spray with his back to where Iwaizumi was standing with his heaving back and begging eyes and he's pressing and rubbing his long legs together _and it was so not okay for Iwaizumi to stare at his best friend like this._

Iwaizumi tears his eyes away, and awkwardly gropes around the other wall to turn off the shower. Just, someone had to help Oikawa right now, and Iwaizumi was here.

He'd known Oikawa was an omega for a long time, they were close friends since childhood, after all. He'd presented in late middle school, Oikawa around half a year later, and though Iwaizumi was an alpha while Oikawa was an omega, neither ever really let it affect what they thought of eachother. Both were just now occasionally missing from school for a few days because they were rabidly masturbating at home due to weird hormones neither cared to acknowledge, same difference.

Dating was never Iwaizumi's thing, though he had talked to some girls before (quite a few started to take an interest in him when he presented as an alpha) he, never really liked them. Oikawa's legion of fangirls was just that, and though eventually some alphas joined in, as creepy as it was at first, Oikawa didn't really seem into them either, he liked the attention, but didn't want to get involved with any of them. With eachother, their relationship never changed, Iwaizumi just never stopped knowing the kid who was absolutely obsessed with aliens and head-over-heels for volleyball.

Nothing had to change between them, so, nothing did.

"Can you get your own towel?"

Iwaizumi's voice sounded sort of nasal. He still tried not to look at Oikawa, or breathe in through his nose.

He had self restraint, sure, but, it'd be best if one of them could focus.

"I... think, yeah. Thank you."

Oikawa's voice was breathy, raspy. How long has it been since it set in?

"Don't you usually have a scheduled warning for this, or something?"

Iwaizumi tried to sound angry, but, the best he could do was sort of stern. He couldn't shake the image of Oikawa, trembling and needy out of his head.

Oikawa makes a soft sound.

"Not due until next week."

Iwaizumi groans. Fucking stress and stressed out Assikawa. He hears footsteps, rustling, and he waits. He tries to remember the way to Oikawa's house and the sort of terror it must be to have an early heat.

"Are you dressed yet?"

"Iwa-chan."

He turns around to find a haphazardly dressed, slouching Oikawa sitting on the bench, who moves to make eye contact. He didn't dry his hair, and his usually sharp eyes seem bleary, hazy.

He's sort of a wreck, but, that's okay, Iwaizumi's the only one here to witness the disaster.

He closes his locker for him, leaving his gym bag inside, and hoping for the love of some god that he didn't manage to somehow get a boner before getting Oikawa home and out of his hands and out of the weird, invasive thoughts about what he could do instead.

...Which are wrong, because this is Assikawa who is rude and has a shitty personality and likes aliens of all things and is pretty on the outside but is actually weird and mean and a jerk and-

Wait, pretty?

_No._

"Can you walk?"

"Mmm, carry me."

He tries to glare, but all he gets are grabby hands in return. Iwaizumi eventually hoists the taller teen into a bridal carry, Oikawa's arms around his neck, and his hand around his back, and under his knees.

Oikawa buries his head in Iwaizumi's neck, maybe halfway through the walk home.

Fuck, it would have been so much easier to insist on not carrying him, or, just helping him walk, or carrying him over his back. The bastard was just so much heavier every time he does this than the last time Iwaizumi remembers. Yet, even with the streetlamps, and the rather angry looking clouds, this was nice, in some way.

At times like these, Oikawa was less infuriating, and Iwaizumi was less infuriated.

Somehow he manages to get him home without dropping him, though, at this point, Iwaizumi's not so much carrying Oikawa, as being clung to by Oikawa, his fingers grabbing at the fabric of his jacket.

"Please, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi tries to shut it out. It's the heat.

"Iwa-chan, stay, please."

Oikawa whimpers when Iwaizumi manages to pry him off himself, and onto the floor directly inside of his front door.

Iwaizumi swallows, throws his jacket by Oikawa, closes the door, and leaves before the last of whatever restraint he has runs out and he ruins this friendship forever.

Iwaizumi doesn't feel too bad about dumping Oikawa back at his house, alone. The media really doesn't do either alphas or omegas much justice in that respect, either of them still has a fair bit of control for the first few hours, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa has usually been the one to help the other out in these situations.

Their parents were suspicious at first, but, really, they mostly just helped keep opportunistic perverts away and to get them to their own home safely. Oikawa had walked Iwaizumi home about as many times as Iwaizumi has brought Oikawa home, though, usually he insisted on leaning against his shoulder and denied fervently nosing around his collarbone, and neck afterwards. The pattern never changed.

Oikawa had always offered to give him a piggy back ride, but, he'll be damned if he ever let the bastard know if he was hard, even if it was obvious. Iwaizumi tried not to think about whether or not Oikawa was so obviously aroused when he left him. When he got home, he tried not to think about how he broke their weird rituals by leaving his coat. He tried not to think about how goddamn good Oikawa smelled, or, what he looked like in the showers.

Or what Oikawa looked like when he left him at his house, or, what he was doing now. He tried not to think about what he was probably doing now, with his jacket.

God, he looked so desperate. face red, eyes unfocused, maybe he's fingering himself. Maybe he's on his bed, jacking off, trying to earn up the courage to slide in one of those long fingers. Oikawa would probably moan, then, just a little louder than the little gasps he was making in the shower. He's probably so sensitive, squirming on his sheets, nipples hard, hair, still dripping, still a mess.

He'd probably be dripping, too. Wet from precome and slick, both getting all over both of his hands. Or maybe, he'd grind his cock into his sheets, using one hand to play with his nipples and fucking himself on the other.

Iwaizumi gives up trying not to think and ends up thinking of how Oikawa's legs might tremble when he comes, and how he might whimper. He thinks about Oikawa getting off to his scent all through his insatiable heat, just, again and again, crying from the overstimulation but still needing more but just having his hands and his thoughts and Iwaizumi's jacket. Iwaizumi comes from thinking about Oikawa coming from thinking about him.

He regrets leaving his jacket, because he has no idea what the fuck that means to Oikawa, or even what it's supposed to mean to him.


	2. Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa deals with his heat, and himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is significantly more, uh, explicit, compared to the first one. Enjoy!

Oikawa bit his hand, trying to use the pain to get him up the stairs okay on shaking legs. He felt so weak he might collapse, just crumple into a shuddering pile on the floor.

Dramatic.

He was up the stairs anyways, still biting down on one hand, the other clenching a jacket (Iwa-chan's jacket, some thought pops up to remind him), arms clutched around himself, knees wobbly.

Shoes at the door. Dignity at the door.

He was okay when Iwa-chan brought him home (maybe because it was Iwa-chan), but the sensations and the heat and the desperation were all sinking into his veins at about the time he reached his room.

Everything was blurry. Everything was too much, everything was too little.

Oikawa fell, his body was sprawling over his bed, and oh god, everything _ached_.

It was like he somehow pushed every part of himself too hard and was waking up the morning after and maybe he did for the entire last week but that wouldn't explain why he felt so hot.

His clothes were sticky and clung to his overheated body, even if his hair was wet, it felt like sweat instead of water. It was gross. He could taste the salt on his skin, eyes shut, too much was going on. Something smelled fucking amazing, his heartbeat drummed in his ears and he could feel it throb absolutely everywhere else.

Knowing rarely made the situation better and he wished that heat was just a name.

Oikawa felt hot and way too wet. His shorts were probably soaked. He could feel something running down his thighs and he just spread his legs apart to push his dick closer to his mattress, or something, or anything at all. He just needed some kind of friction or he was going to go insane.

Desperately, he stopped himself before he began to grind into his bed, biting harder at his knuckles, trying to stay just aware enough to be ashamed of himself.

He tried to unclench his jaw and his fists.

Deep breaths.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He had to take his hand away from his mouth so he could pant. What was that _smell_?

Oikawa's hand, still stinging from all those bites brushed by something cool as he stretched it out, trying to support himself, lungs heaving.

Both hands scrambled at the fabric.

Iwa-chan's jacket. _Hajime's_ jacket.

...Why did he leave his jacket?

His brain supplies the word "pheromones" and fuck, right. Alpha. Omega. Might make it easier. Was he trying to help? Oikawa couldn't handle that train of thought, his head falling back as the sensation suddenly got worse.

Reasons for the jacket, everything, didn't matter. He couldn't take it, frantically unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, one hand cripping Iwa-chan's jacket, the other sliding past the elastic. Oikawa was just going to do this fast. Fuck, his briefs were so wet, clinging to the skin.

Hand gripping, thumbing at the slit of his cock, Oikawa was curling into himself on the bed. (Fuck, he was leaking so much.)

Oikawa moaned, eyes sliding shut. He was salivating. He buried his face in the fabric and didn't even realize it.

What if Iwa-chan had agreed to stay, anyways?

 _No_ , he's not allowed to think about that, not now. He wasn't going to last, it was too good, too soon, and he was wearing too much and he _couldn't_ , not yet.

He pulled his hand away, trying not to whimper from the loss of friction, almost dropping to rut against his bed in desperation. Anything to alleviate the feelings coursing through him of uncomfortable heat and arousal.

No, no time for that.

Oikawa used his sudden clarity of mind to take off his clothes, just shedding them somewhere around his bed, all around, maybe not even on the floor. It didn't matter as much as the cool sheets on his back, and one hand holding the jacket up to his face so he could breathe in that intoxicating scent.

He was biting his knuckles again, from the hand he already pulled away earlier. He could taste himself on them, but he didn't care, he just needed more. Needed less.

Oikawa needed to stay in control.

It didn't matter how many times Oikawa went through this, or ended up crumpled on his bed this way, it always made him feel terrible, not just from how the arousal and heat and need wracked his nerves and took over his thoughts, or just from how ashamed he is of what he is, but from where his thoughts would lead.

He needed to be touched, all over. Oikawa should be cold, he's naked and sprawled out over his sheetless bed but he just feels hot, flushed, with warmth coiling in and all around his stomach which made him desperate for sensation, anywhere, more contact, more anything.

The thought of maybe another pair of hands and lips and tongue made him sob.

Oikawa wouldn't care if it was just about the fact he didn't like girls, or didn't like anyone but alpha males, that was his business. What bothered him was also his business.

A hand slid down from his mouth to his hard cock, and within a few seconds Oikawa was desperately jerking himself off, He knew it maybe wouldn't be enough but he needed something, god, he always felt so out of control.

Oikawa barely registers the high whine he makes when he comes, back arching, legs spreading, nose pressed into the collar and lapel of the jacket.

Breathing harsh, back collapsing onto the bed, body relaxed but barely so.

He was still hard.

The first time during a heat was always fast and unsatisfactory, and yet every time he couldn't even keep his head on straight during it. After it. His need to be touched, for some kind of sensation on his overheating body only got worse.

Oikawa can just barely comprehend his situation. It wouldn't last. God, he felt so empty, and the sheets felt disgusting. He should have put down towels or something. Oikawa could feel his hole twitch, and could feel his slick nearly dripping from it.

He's torn between trying to keep himself aware or just, not fighting the feelings of helpless need and arousal anymore.

Iwa-chan's smell is grounding.

There's a little bit of his smell in the jacket, some other people, but the sweat, that was Iwa-chan.

Oikawa turned his head into the jacket, blinking a little but before closing his eyes again, sliding a hand down to his aching length and resting the other on his thigh. He was shaking.

Iwaizumi's never left his jacket before.

Oikawa wishes he could say say he's never dropped so low as to use his clothing for help during heats. They had been friends for a very long time, Iwaizumi sometimes forgot a shirt or something at his place, and, maybe Oikawa kept them.

Maybe Oikawa sometimes jacked off while smelling them, late at night, when both his parents and inhibitions slept.

Maybe he's never come harder than when he did that.

It didn't have to mean anything, right? Omegas and alphas smell amazing to each other.

...It was only Iwa-chan, though.

He was moving one hand idly, stroking his cock, thumbing a little bit at the head. It was too slow. It wasn't enough.

The other hand, resting on his leg he couldn't help but curl in with the sensation, nails pressing into his skin. The little pricks of pain only made him feel more desperate. Hand moving faster, hips bucking.

His room was still and, quiet, just the wet noises from his hand and his own labored breathing, interspersed with gasps and whines could be heard. Hearing himself like this only made him pump his hand harder, face red with shame and arousal.

Oikawa groaned, and even he didn't know if it was from pleasure or sheer frustration. He's nearly fucking his fist right now, hips moving up to meet his hand he can't move much faster.. He needs more control. He needs to slow down.

He forces himself to stop, almost crying from the sudden lack of friction.

He can control himself.

He can control himself even if his length was throbbing and his ass felt so empty, he could feel it, it was gross, he was leaking everywhere. Oikawa doesn't remember the last time he got this wet, just that he can feel it dripping out of him and he can't decide what to do or whether to feel absolutely humiliated or just completely needy because it felt disgusting but also made him feel so much more like gasping and crying out and rubbing himself against his sheets for any kind of contact.

Oikawa couldn't take it anymore, taking the other hand off of his thigh to slide in a finger. He was soaked down there. He winced a little, then whined as it sunk in, he had to slow down his other hand because of the sheer intensity. It was too much, too much from not enough.

He usually didn't touch himself there. Usually didn't need to. It also usually made him feel like a filthy slut, but, that didn't matter anymore. He needed it. Oikawa's body was burning for it. He needed this, needed to be filled, needed to be taken and fucked.

It was such an awkward angle, but he felt sparks dance through his lower body as his finger rubbed against his walls. Oikawa never remembered how sensitive he was, never remembered how intense it felt during heat, never remembered how good it was.

He hadn't moved his other hand in a while, any sensations from his weeping cock completely overshadowed by the way his finger felt opening himself up. He can control this.

The need was burning him up, now. What started in the pit of his stomach he felt everywhere, everywhere was sensitive, his throat felt so dry, his eyes were going a little blurry, he could barely focus.

Oikawa removed the unsteady hand from his length to clench in the sheets beside him, slowly sliding the one finger in and out. It felt so deep. It felt so good.

Oh, fuck. He was so hot, so wet. He was grinding down on his knuckles, clenching maybe a little bit. He was so close. It felt so deep. It felt so good. Oikawa was losing his mind, he was sobbing in a mixture of desperation and relief.

It was so good, intoxicating, he could feel his finger just, inside, and that alone just made him want to keen, just a little or maybe a lot and he could feel his slick dripping down to his hand and it was so messy and he needed more than this, he needed more than being splayed out on his bed with his legs spread and his head thrown back and his back curling up so he can reach deeper and a finger moving inside him.

Those alphas on the streets. The ones at his school. That group that fawns over him. He didn't, wasn't anything less, didn't need them. He was drawing this out so long, his whole body was so tense and his world narrowed to what he could feel. Those alphas treated him like some pretty little object they might end up in bed with, if they played their cards right. It was disgusting. Oikawa still fantasizes about being fucked like these people's leers implied he wanted to be. He didn't care. They could be right. He needed to get off.

He imagines what it would be like to be fucked, not by his own fingers, but something thicker, longer. He needs more than this. He didn't need more than himself or his own imagination. What would it feel like to have someone else holding him down, making him take them over and over, just using him until he's an incoherent, begging mess?

He turns his head to the side a little, pushing his head into his bed like it'll anchor him, steady him through the rising wave of need and want and good. Oikawa's finger slides in just a little deeper just as he breathes in from Iwa-chan's jacket, and that's the breaking point.

His body suddenly tenses up, and Oikawa whimpers as he comes, body falling back against the bed, finger sliding out, other hand unclenching and clenching, eyes rolling back, he's still rocking his hips, even if he's empty, and there's no friction. Still breathing in, deeply, though it comes out in pants.

That smell. Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan left his jacket.

That realization brings Oikawa back to his senses, a little. He can feel the little aftershocks of pleasure wash out of his system, he felt so weak. He could feel his sheets, soaked with his own slick and come and the warm dribbles of it all over his stomach. Oikawa blinks, a few times, bangs still wet, though, this time probably with sweat, trying to resist the urge to lightly nuzzle Iwa-chan's jacket, to try to get closer to the smell.

Iwaizumi's scent was comforting. Oikawa decides to maybe keep it close to him. To maybe try to pass out to some kind of oblivion that barely counts as sleep because the more time passes the faster the heat's gone, and the less he remembers, the less humiliating it is.

The less he had to remember about how he'd fuck himself for days in the ways he'd never do or enjoy otherwise. One of the reasons he commanded respect was he refused to allow anyone to disrespect him, the stereotypes of the weak, dependent, submissive omega were ones Oikawa had been overcoming all his life, so to periodically be stripped of the dignity he fought tooth and nail for always left him in shambles.

His heart still pounded in his chest. He tried to roll over, closer to the jacket, away from the wetness and the feelings. He didn't notice he was still hard until his sensitive nipples brushed against the sheets, ripping the air from his lungs before he could even turn over fully onto his stomach.

He couldn't take much more of this. He couldn't take much more of his body shaking with want and his hole aching to be filled and the heat trickling through his veins and the desperate need still fighting his logic for control over his thoughts. The need to be held down and taken and knotted but mostly the need to be fucked.

Oikawa felt like he was going to start crying, it's too much. He's had too much but he _needs_ more.

It just won't end.

He can control himself. He, just, can't control how much he wants and needs more than this. Oikawa's already propping up his shaking legs, so that he's pressing his face into Iwa-chan's jacket, can get his arms easily around his back and his legs to touch his sensitive cock and brush over his aching hole.

Oikawa cries out when he slides in two fingers, right off the bat. He's still so hot inside, so disgustingly wet, so tight. The feeling of the two digits just stretching him open, just a little more than before but it makes all the difference, he's so sensitive. It's so good. He can't move them, he'll feel like he'll just fall apart to the point no one can put him back together but his hips have already started rocking, bucking, grinding against them.

He moves up his other arm to lean on, as his body threatens to collapse, it's too much. He's going to just fall over and it'll all crash down.

He can't control how he's moaning, now, eyes squeezed shut, two fingers deep in his ass, toes curling. He tries to breathe in, clear his head, but all he gets is Iwaizumi's scent, alpha, strong, safe, dizzying. Oikawa is trying so hard to stay himself in the wake of the sensations.

Just enough himself to be ashamed of how much he loves this.

Oikawa's losing his grip.

His fingers are slender, but they feel so good, so big inside him. Rubbing against his entrance, everything with every little movement.

Cheek pressed into the bed, he's breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. Trying not to pant. Not to make any breathy noises, trying to filter the thin moans that slip out because he can't stop slowly moving his wrist now, can't stop his hips pushing back, off rhythm.

He's pathetic. Absolutely _pathetic._

What if Iwaizumi had stayed when Oikawa asked him too?

He's biting his arm, now, the groans and whimpers still slipping through, his mouth's open. He's drooling on Iwa-chan's coat again. Still smells so good, something about it makes him want to shiver.

Iwaizumi had always been there for Oikawa, probably wouldn't end any differently.

Or it would end with Iwaizumi fucking Oikawa into the sheets. His whole body shuddered, fingers pressing deep.

Iwa-chan was an alpha. He was one of few people around Oikawa's height. His hands were rough, and his shoulders were broad and his arms were strong. He knew Oikawa as well as Oikawa knew him.

Iwaizumi probably wouldn't even need to try hard to guess what would make Oikawa writhe underneath him, needy and overheated and so, so wet.

He clenched a little around his fingers, whining. He, shouldn't be thinking about this. About how Iwaizumi would probably stretch him open nice and slow, but he doesn't slow down his hand. He doesn't need slow, he needs to get off. Needs to stop. Needs to keep going.

Iwa-chan'd probably know that too, though. He knows him so well. He'd probably stroke Oikawa's hip, tell him he needs to be thorough. Iwaizumi was patient sometimes. Too patient sometimes. Not patient at all sometimes. Maybe he'd fuck Oikawa roughly, hard and fast. Tired of waiting for him to relax.

Oikawa shudders, and fucks himself a little harder on his fingers, moving just a little faster.

Would Iwa-chan play with him before he fucks him? Would he hold him down?

Oikawa's seen him in the showers. It would actually be weirder if he hadn't by this point; they'd been friends for such a long time. He's built nicely, a little thicker than Oikawa, in every way, just a little broader, and Oikawa's not particularly slender.

He swallows.

There are tears on his cheeks now, he can just barely feel them run down his face. It's still too intense. Too much. It's so much, and he still needs more, just enough to get him over the edge, and his fingers slide too deep, too far, and the angle's off and Oikawa sobs, one leg pushing at the sheets, the other aches a little and he can't put his weight there so he ends up squirming back against his hand.

God, so deep. He's shaking.

Trying to move his fingers a little inside his overheated ass, still dripping wet and leaking out between his legs, for a second his mind went blank, couldn't stop himself from feeling the pleasure shoot through him, crying out as they shift just a little.

Oikawa usually tried to ignore his prostate, it was too perverted, too dirty for him to to do himself. Filthy. Almost can't think. Shouldn't think about how he wanted to be touched all over and fucked and used by his best friend.

He tries to move his hand again, but can do little more than shiver, and feel it all burn through him. It's so good, the feeling of his hand brushing in and against him. He can feel the tears on his cheeks, sobs still catching in his throat.

Iwaizumi has thicker fingers than he does. How would those calloused hands feel on him? Tracing over his skin, legs, pressing into him. He'd probably do it so much more pointedly than Oikawa. Harder. Iwa-chan could start out so gently, just getting rougher and rougher until Oikawa can barely take it, until Iwaizumi hears him _beg_.

He's still sobbing, just grinding against his fingers, the tips just barely touching the right spot.

Iwa-chan might be possessive, territorial.

What would Hajime say if he saw him like this?

Oikawa doesn't last much longer than that, thoughts turning incoherent, messes of want and need and Iwaizumi. He finally blacks out, still curled into his best friend's jacket.


	3. Periodically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath, back at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's yet another chapter of fic, I think this will be second last chapter of Patterns, as it's really drawing to a close. I'm sorry for the break, schoolwork has been eating me alive, haha (though, now I'm past finals, more fic soon!). I actually broke this chapter into two parts, so the next will also stick to Oikawa's viewpoint, but in the last chapter, the viewpoint will be back to Iwazumi. (Though, it probably won't contain much plot at all, if you know what I mean.)
> 
> I'm astounded by the positive feedback despite the fact it's been months since I last updated, thank you for your support! I have some plans for a few standalone fics in the near future as well as for finishing this one, so, stay tuned!

Oikawa smiled, surrounded by girls, yet again. He'd been back after the heat for a couple days now. (It was early, but hardly dented his schedule. Made him feel like he was overreacting every time.)

Back to school, back to normal, back to practice, back to Iwa-chan.

Life felt more like it used to be than it should, like something should've crescendoed from the change in their routine.

(Early due to stress, stress getting worse from it having happened.)

Or, Oikawa was probably just too overly conscious of it, _that_. Those thoughts (what he did, what it meant) stuck with him and came out at really inconvenient times, all these last few days.

Like now. One of the girls near him was talking about this day trip her family took to a zoo, or something like that.

She was nice enough, he supposed. Around a foot shorter than him, beta, kind, meek, talkative once she was comfortable with you.

He nodded, at her, trying to tell her to continue because really, how could her family manage to lose track of their dad? It wasn't even a busy day, by the sounds of it.

She stops, long brown hair swaying a little bit as she ducks her head, averts her eyes, mumbles something about how her father would probably like him.

Submissive posturing, that's, not good.

Oikawa just laughs a little bit, reciprocates the comment. (Yeah, his dad probably would like a girl like her.) They go back to a more comfortable mood.

He had some time before practice, last time he looked at the clock.

Some of the other girls look a little too shy to stay fully engaged in the conversation. One seemed impatient, was checking her phone, probably wanted to get going.

He should maybe get going in a bit, but, Oikaw legitimately wants to hear the whole story, he was almost excited to hear how it ends.

Yet, his thoughts drift off again, the way she brought up how her family might feel earlier stuck around with him and lingered longer than it should've.

His family would approve of her. Nice, surprisingly gutsy, good contrast in height and attitude compared to him, but no real clash. Harmonious, maybe. They could be good friends. (Not that anyone would interprey them as friends, and she appeared to be aiming higher.)

It was probably time for practice soon.

If he brought her home, maybe his father would like it, because he could start pretending, if he wanted, that his son wasn't somehow an omega. (Submissive, subservient, lesser.) But, his father told him a couple times before, that he didn't actually care. His mother said the exact same thing. Both of them were betas, anyways.

Oikawa never doubted his family loved him the way he was, but couldn't help but wonder if they thought the same things he did when he went into heat, looked at documents, got another round of birth control to maybe make this cycle milder, or heard anyone talk about him. Oikawa could be breaking down barriers, best setter, captain, abnormally tall and cocky and large for an omega, but that didn't mean he could escape them. Those barriers defined him, even if it was in how he was taking them down.

He was an _omega_ , after all.

Iwa-chan lingered in his thoughts. His strong shoulders, strong jawline, strong personality. (Strong arms, corded, tanned.) That was an alpha, through and through, even if Oikawa was a little taller.

Oikawa knew he looked like an alpha to most, he avoided every stereotype expected of him except pretty. Iwaizumi, really didn't look half bad. (He looked amazing.) Probably spent no time on his hair but Oikawa was pretty sure it might rival his own, absolutely great nose, arguably (not arguably) better body. To anyone, he'd be read loud and clear, Oikawa could hardly scrape by as ambiguous. (Stereotypes weren't true, usually, but, they made a difference, always did.)

This girl, she was, not his type. He could take her out on a date, they'd have fun, he could survive but really, he felt no chemistry, and, frankly, no attraction. (He'd taken girls out before, same story, his mom and Iwaizumi both noticed how he seemed just a little bit detached from them.) Not that he'd stop pretending.

He never really had his mouth go dry around girls, no matter who. Oikawa knew he was attractive, and as a consequence had usually other attractive people (well, others too, but not the point) going for his attention, status be damned.

These people were attractive, but, you don't have to be attracted to someone to know they're attractive. (He wasn't attracted to any of them.)

Sometimes alphas came up to him, talked to him, the girls were always fun, they'd sometimes flirt back and forth, most of them suiting the aggressiveness expected of them and he really wasn't afraid to bite back, the banter was good, but, he usually made it clear they weren't his type. (He never specified that comment was because they were girls, not because they were alphas.)

Guys approached him less, homosexuality wasn't rare, but wasn't common, they probably were confused as to how an omega who acted like an alpha would be in a relationship. (Society relied far too much on stereotypes.) Some of them actually made Oikawa want them, just a little, but they were always, _always_ arrogant and insufferable, (granted, so was he) but really, all these suitors had managed to fall from his favor in the time it took for them to open their mouth.

(Maybe even open their eyes, a lot of the girls were courteous, some of the guys just flat out leered at him, his body.)

Oikawa knew his personality, charm, looks, everything was kind of magnetic, only a handful of people wouldn't give him a second look. The handful kind of maybe included the person he'd want to look him over again. Whatever. Even if they were interested in him, he wasn't really interested in them. (Wasn't sure if he's ever really been interested in anyone else.) He's not sure how many he's turned away and how many he's given a try to try and flush out this weird yearning. He'd never be able to give in, anyways, would probably eat him alive. They couldn't be what he wanted and all he really wanted was that idea maybe not the person. (Maybe, absolutely, only the person.)

He should possibly meet with Iwa-chan, now.

They really did time their lives around each other, it was like clockwork, that interaction was as central to his planning and living as volleyball was. They walked there, ate lunch together, volleyball, walked home, hung out sometimes, attached at the hip.

Not that he and Iwaizumi were codependent.

The girls around him, they were maybe too kind for him. He enjoyed spending time with them, but it was more of an afterthought, not exhilarating, nice if it happened, but he wasn't upset if it didn't. Spending time with Iwaizumi was different.

Oikawa's pretty sure he can rely on him, but, knows both he and Iwa-chan need their independence as much as he needed to lightly aggravate him and Iwaizumi needed to vaguely retaliate.

Less reliance, more equilibrium.

So, why hadn't things shifted back yet?

He made eye contact with the girl was telling the story, sort of genuinely sorry he spaced out again during it, as judging by the laughter, he missed something golden. Something about her little brother? Cute.

This was nice. Standing with a crowd of girls, free time, listening to a story he wasn't only pretending to find interesting, he should be at ease.

He wasn't, thoughts scattered, shoulders a little stiff.

Oikawa sighed, lightly.

They gave him a concerned look, he just plastered the light grin back on, feigning checking his phone as if he got a rude text message.

A rude text message really couldn't compare to what he was actually occupied with.

He apologized, and left the group. They waved at him as he walked away, some saying they might come watch them practice. (Some always did, cheered him on.) His actions were never intended to be so perfectly timed, Iwaizumi appearing just around the corner. Brevity was the soul of wit, the universe decided to be funny, and stop him straight in his tracks, right then.

It's not like it's the first time Oikawa's seen him since he got back (that would be nearly impossible), but for some reason just his stern glare, wordlessly conveying 'get moving towards the gym _now_ ' knocked the breath out of him, just a little.

Nothing else changed, and that little flutter in his chest was nothing new.

It's not like Oikawa was going to have a life changing revelation during a heat, anyways. Even if that heat was really intense. Even if that heat was maybe a little different because Iwaizumi did something so entirely unexpected.

They didn't talk about it. Didn't need to.

Oikawa wondered about how normal it felt, coming back from the few day break. How normal it felt to return to the stress. Lethal at this time of year. Awful. Hard on students. Hardest on 3rd years.

How normal it felt to return after fucking himself for days to thoughts his best friend over him, in general. How normal it was for that best friend to know.

Nothing changed, and it truly made Oikawa wonder if anything had to.

If anything already did when he had his back turned.

Iwaizumi already acted like he knew something was different but he was a little too subtle and shifted directly with the rest of the world, leaving Oikawa out of place. He was so subtly different that there was no real way to know what the difference was.

Maybe that uncertainty scared Oikawa a little.

Iwaizumi flashed him sort of a grin, sort of a smirk, entirely a challenge to get on his feet and _moving_.

He took it.

Oikawa was still way too conscious of Iwaizumi, during practice, tried to ignore him to compensate for it, hope they evened out.

Didn’t look at Iwaizumi when they were done changing, maybe sort of assumed he’d follow him out the door, like always. (Routine was so hard to break, he just fell into place, hoped his reactions wouldn’t give him away)

Articles stowed back in his locker. Normal. This was normal.

He turned to leave, and felt a hand strongly grip his shoulder, turning him around, and against the hallway wall. Only one person had the audacity to do that.

Fuck.

"We need to talk."

_Fuck._

Oikawa felt his heart fall through his stomach.

"Iwa-chan, about what?"

He pulled on a fake smile, that same smirk he'd give to the girls (eyes closed, mouth slightly open, teeth.) Oikawa knew Iwaizumi could see right through it, but it made him feel slightly more steady under his intense gaze.

He expected Iwaizumi to come in a little closer, like usual when they were speaking seriously, but when he opened his eyes and dropped a bit of the grin, Iwaizumi hadn't moved any closed to him, only stayed where he was.

(This conversation could be about them. It could be about their playing. It was almost certainly about their relationship.)

Iwaizumi took a deep breath in. Oikawa prepared to have his exhale knocked out of him.

"You were working yourself to the bone again. You can't keep blaming yourself, not again."

Or, the conversation was about him, them, _that_.

Iwaizumi stared at him, eyes clearly sort of intense and clearly sort of hurt.

The pause before conversation dragged on longer than Oikawa intended on letting it, trying to unscramble words to describe a feeling he hoped (though knew it was too late) Iwaizumi didn't know.

"...Is it really blame if it's my fault?"

"It's not your fault."

Iwaizumi responded quickly, already prepared to shut down Oikawa's negativity, but, there was something else, it appeared.

Besides, it _was_ his fault, no reassurances, (no lies,) pity be damned.

"My tosses were off. I didn’t do my best. I didn’t hold us together as a team."

Iwaizumi broke the eye contact, his turn to let the silence take over their conversation for just a few more inadvisable minutes.

Oikawa would apologize for the remark, try to end this conversation and go back to normal despite the fact the only reason they function so well is that they don't just leave these things unresolved. (He wishes they did, sometimes.)

Then something unexpected came from Iwaizumi's mouth.

"It's not all your fault, it's my fault too!"

Fuck. The words were biting, and Oikawa felt them eat through his composure.

"What?"

He was nearly at a loss for words. It wasn't Iwa-chan's fault! He did his best, he-

"I’m the ace. The team relied on me, and I failed. We're _both_ disappointments."

Oikawa was in disbelief. Iwa-chan wasn’t looking at him anymore.

"You're not the captain, though!"

The words erupted before he could hold them back, cool them down, keep them from sounding so accusatory and hurt.

"I wasn't strong enough."

"No one would have to be strong if I wasn't so weak!"

Oikawa’s happy these toxins are all getting purged, or, he knows he will be, but right now, it’s just raw, and tense, and he hates the way Iwa-chan sounds right now, and he just keeps going and-

"And I keep letting you punish yourself for my mistakes."

It’s all he can do to reply honestly.

"They're _my_ mistakes, Iwaizumi!"

He doesn't remember the last time he said his best friend's full name. (Yes he does, late at night, whined into his pillow.)

“You take too much fucking weight on your shoulders.”

"I could say the same about you, your broad shoulders could certainly take it but that doesn’t mean you just _should_."

Somehow that remark came out more flirty than biting, but Oikawa's fairly certain Iwaizumi would easily identify it as a jab. It was a jab. The comfortable space between them was shattering, it would have to break completely before they could reassemble the pieces of who they were.

"Sometimes I wonder if Ushijima takes up more space in your head than me."

"Maybe he does."

He says it coolly, and it's a lie, being with Iwaizumi is thoughtless, but every other moment was just biding time with thoughts of him. (Ushijima was the wall in front of him. The hands dragging him back. A close second. Everyone who's surpassed him, left him behind.)

"It’s his whole team you have to defeat, you can’t just watch the back of whoever the hell is outdoing you.”

It was getting too personal, too fast. They were too close to the line, and Oikawa’s not sure what will happen when they cross it.

“You can’t just watch my back all the time, aren’t you supposed to trust your teammates?”

Oikawa just knew he’d cross it first. Iwaizumi was goading him on, and he was fine with taking the fall, in the future, when he apologized for everything he said or maybe there would be no apologies, not under this strain, and they'd both continue on like this never happened, like these words were never said.

“You always want, no, _need_ someone to pay attention to you, so why not?"

Apologies can’t take these kinds of words back, no matter the sincerity. They broke some dam of withheld comments. Maybe these were too deep to withdraw at a later time.

Iwa-chan was looking at him again, actually took a step towards him. Empty hallway, the step echoed, Oikawa backed himself into the wall, there was still a lot of room between them but it felt like he was inches away.

“Who ever said you’d take up any of my thoughts anyways, _Hajime_?”

He shouldn’t have said that.

“I don’t need time in your head when you’re clinging to me all day.”

He _really_ shouldn't have said that.

“Well, you come find me if I’m not. How many of your thoughts do I take up, then?”

“You can’t take care of yourself, _Tooru_.”

Oikawa might want a recording of the way Iwaizumi said his name, affected him more greatly than it should have, but, his mind is still somehow on autopilot, still pushing buttons, it’s all he’s ever excelled at, really.

“Hmmm, You want to take care of me, then?”

He should stop talking, the words are sounding less and less volatile and more like playful (but not playful at all) passive aggressive jabs and he’s not intending to _win_ whatever the hell this argument has turned into, but he desperately wants both to have never had things go this way, and to see where they would go from there. (Hopes of where this could go, terrifying and promising and painful.)

“Jerk, you won’t let anyone even try.”

Iwa-chan was smirking, now, and it was still sort of bitter, the anger was still between them, but Oikawa found it enchanting, with the way the light lit up his features. (This was wrong. He shouldn't. He _shouldn't_.)

No, don’t get distracted. Don’t say anything.

“You seem pretty successful.”

The words fell out. (He let them out.)

“Yeah?”

Step forwards. The words were breathed out, not as loud as their yelling, or even their talking.

It felt like too much. He needed to keep a handle on this. These were just things that were being said in the moment, no more, but, something inside him was screaming with just trying to leave it like that. He needed to end it. End this. End whatever this conversation or argument or dialogue was about.

“Why do you care so much?”

The words came out anyways. Oikawa couldn’t leave it at that, such a sad, vulnerable little statement. Had to change topic. Anything. Couldn’t leave the empty air between them filled with that utter _weakness_. Just needed to keep talking. Something. Anything.

“You left me your jacket.”

Oikawa was smiling now, to try to regain any composure at all, no longer looking at Iwaizumi, but could see his stance fall back a little bit, tense a little bit at those words from the corner of his eye.

No response.

Was Iwa-chan waiting for him to take this to the next step? Change the topic?

"Yeah."

One word response, not good, Oikawa needed to keep going, say something to lead them both out of the awkward situation homework accidentally created.

"Iwa-chan, thank you. It helped."

Every goddamn sentence he says is digging the hole deeper. Mocking himself always does that. (Why did he want him? Gross. He shouldn't have these feelings. Not for him. Not for anyone.)

"Good to hear."

Oikawa was going to bet everything on his next few words, everything that ever mattered. (It feels like only one thing actually matters right now, anyways.)

"Too bad you couldn't have stayed with it, hmm?"

He tried to laugh it off. He shouldn't have tried that. Maybe probably definitely shouldn't have said that, it was a bit too much and too far and why did he even bother mocking his own emotions when they were all jokes anyways seriously-

"Assikawa."

At least they returned to their nicknames, something familiar, he turned to look again at Iwa-chan, but he just, and-

He-

Iwaizumi pulled back from the quick kiss, taking a step away, almost sheepishly.

Iwa-chan just kissed him. When did he get close enough to, why-

"Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi wasn't meeting his eyes, either.

"I'm sorry."

Oikawa couldn't stop blinking, hardly resisted the urge to raise his hands to his lips like some shoujo heroine after her first kiss, that was, maybe, completely?

Unexpected.

He must've looked too shocked or maybe repulsed because Iwaizumi just started talking and Oikawa wanted to provoke some kind of response from him because he doesn't really know how to deal with people who are too detached from the situation but this is nothing like he thought he'd ever get out of that.

"That was invasive, and gross, and probably just my hormones but it was still me that did it and I won't again, but, I started thinking, about that, you, _us_. If it was just your whole thing, if you'd, you're, fuck. I was thinking, and if that wasn't just the heat talking, I don't want to let this pass by."

What was Iwa-chan trying to say, could it? No. That would be pathetic. No. What did this mean? Could he? No. He wouldn't ever possibly want that.

"...This?"

Oikawa tried to get his thoughts in order after those few seconds that split his world apart.

"I want to give 'us' a try."

Oh. Oh fuck.

He never, ever, _ever_ wanted to have to push away the one thing he's maybe wanted for what feels like his whole life.

But, if Iwaizumi wanted him...

No.

Not even for Iwa-chan, his pride would never, ever let him. He didn't want that. Not to say he didn't want this, but what exactly was 'this'? He couldn't. He _couldn't._

Oikawa manages to huff out two words, among the shock, he didn't want to, but he needed to get them out.

"I can't."

Saying that felt like an eternity and Iwa-chan's reply was still too soon.

"Alright."

Iwaizumi takes a smaller step even further back and Oikawa can't believe how much he hates this slight loss of proximity. He blinks.

"That's it?"

"If you don't want me, I'll get over it. We're best friends. That comes over whatever this is."

Oikawa takes a step forward, maintaining the same eye contact, he can't lie, not now.

"I want you."

It was Iwaizumi's turn to be confused, but he sounded exasperated, maybe a little in disbelief.

"What?"

Iwaizumi looked at him, dumbfounded, Oikawa's imagination plagued him with ideas of him and Iwa-chan and more than now and future and possibilities that made him feel weak in the knees.

"I, want you."

He hated having to say these things, he sounded so delicate. Too open. Vulnerable. Oikawa knew he had to say them anyways.

Iwaizumi's brow furrowed a little bit. 

"Then why can't you..?"

"I can't be someone's omega. You know that."

Iwaizumi's smirk returned, if, more tired now, seeming understanding and exactly what did he get that Oikawa didn't.

"I don't want you as an omega."

What?

"...We're already friends, Iwa-chan."

(Why did his voice sound so unsteady?)

"I just want you. As you."

"But-"

"You couldn't do that, and that's not what I'd need from you, Oikawa. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Something about that statement broke some wall inside himself, just, let him be. It felt comfortable, like being together always did.

"Also the best."

Oikawa felt a couple tears well up in his eyes. (Pathetic, emotional.) The joke did surprisingly little to help him hold onto his composure.

"Is that a yes?"

He nodded. Both took steps towards each other, and he's not sure who leaned forwards first but suddenly there are strong arms around his back and he's got his around Iwaizumi's shoulders and it's so natural, somehow, he can't believe how they've avoided just existing like this for so long, but-

This was wrong. Iwaizumi deserved the best possible mate, life partner, girlfriend, whatever. Oikawa could never, ever, live up to what Iwa-chan deserved.

Yet, it still felt so weirdly _good_ to be held by Iwaizumi, drop his head and grin into his shoulder, slouching his back to negate their heights, just a little. He wanted to take every moment he's ever wasted and just use them to exist like this, right here, right now, though, of course everything was by a schedule and they needed to leave and time ran out, far sooner than it felt like it should, than it had any right to.

"So, your place?"

Oikawa nodded, his parents were out, again. Iwaizumi quirked a small smile at him. They were nowhere close to resolving whatever that argument was about but somehow they fixed something deeper, something that made it feel like all the words, all themselves fall into place.


	4. Intervals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi and Oikawa work a couple things out of their systems with their relationships, with their dynamics, and with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support! (And nearly 3k views, I’m honored!) Sorry it took so long to get this out, I wanted to make it just right and wrap it up, since, after all, the only chapter after this is an epilogue. (And, to anyone who’s wondering, it will feature Iwaizumi’s rut, so, the alpha cycle.) I'm also looking at this now, and, I'm not sure how this got so dang long. Enjoy!

The sun was setting, and if it wasn't overcast maybe the weather would've felt as perfect as the moment.

It was raining, earlier. He forgot an umbrella, so how everything worked out, well, it all worked out. It worked out like they did, perfect.

It feels so normal, Oikawa could barely believe it. Nothing changed. Nothing they did changed, but the very idea that Iwa-chan likes him romantically made his heart flutter, head spin.

It felt like everything was falling into place as they fell into step beside each other, but nothing felt different, but Oikawa _felt_ different.

“You’re a massive jerk, you know that right?”

Well, that ruined the mood. Oikawa opened his eyes fully, head snapping over to glare at Iwaizumi in surprise.

“Pompous too. You’re weird, and I have no idea why but that’s somehow fucking adorable.”

Iwaizumi sounded like he was questioning things, kept looking straight ahead, walking forwards as Oikawa opened his mouth to give him an even more exaggerated expression of shock.

“Iwa-chan, if I’m so rude, then why are you walking me home? Mean.”

He pouted after saying those words, going through all the usual theatrics. (Maybe he deserved this.)

“I never called you rude, but that’s another one.”

Oikawa huffed, walking up to his porch to unlock the door. (Too good to be true, maybe.)

“Iwa-chan, always so cruel to me.”

He said, throwing his head back, back of his hands over his eyes as he walked into the room, but, he felt a hand grab his arm, pull him back, let go, just stopping him abruptly.

“...I like you.”

He opened his eyes, seeing Iwaizumi standing in his entrance way, stuck beside him in the small space. No lights were on, the light leaking in from the panes on the side of the door was pale, grey, hardly lit up the back of some of Iwaizumi’s hair, barely highlighted his cheeks, shone weakly over his jacket, caught a bit on his eyelashes and it was _breathtaking_ , somehow.

(He’d mock Iwa-chan for being shy, if he wasn’t just as apprehensive.)

“Yeah.”

Oikawa breathes, tearing his eyes away to take off his shoes, walk into the main part of the house. He’s not ready for this conversation, for it to fall apart.

He walks over to his couch, knows Iwaizumi’s following him, a little behind, shoes at the door, comfort at the door. Some new bubble of awkward came up between them, and Oikawa really feels like he needs to speak first, because there's just so many things they need to talk about.

“I’m sorry."

He mumbles, still not really looking over even when he feels Iwa-chan sit beside him.

“What?”

Iwaizumi replies, probably a little caught off guard.

“About, that. This. Out of character for me, right, Iwa-chan?”

He manages to say back, trying to mask the uncertainty with some chirpy tone of voice, some sort of smile, eyes closed, head tilted.

Iwaizumi snorted, shoved his shoulder lightly

“Don’t worry about it.”

Iwaizumi always read him perfectly. (Maybe he shouldn’t have to worry about everything falling apart)

"So where have you even been, anyways?”

He continued, looking over at him. Oikawa wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, rubbing at his own knuckles, sheepishly returning the look. (He should just tell the truth.)

“I was just hanging with some friends, you’re always welcome to join us.”

All he can tell is a partial truth. (Avoiding thinking of you was just so much harder to say.)

“You mean that cloud of fangirls? How many would you actually give a chance?”

Iwaizumi replied in a disbelieving tone, raising an eyebrow at him. Oikawa shrugged. Not all of them were his fangirls, anyways, maybe just most. (He’d give any of them a chance, all of them, or none of them because he _knew_ he couldn’t reciprocate.)

“Girls are precious, Iwa-chan, you’ve got to treat them right.”

Oikawa said haughtily, poking Iwaizumi in the chest. (They deserved better than him.)

“You’re avoiding my question.”

Did Iwaizumi always have to catch everything?

“I like them, but, just like them. They’re too good for so many of these grubby boys.”

Oikawa sort of hated having to lie out his emotions like this, put everything in the open, but he knew it was honestly the best way.

“Good.”

Iwaizumi slings his arm around Oikawa’s shoulder possessively, sidling a little closer, looking away, and it makes Oikawa go rigid for a few seconds until the realization hits him in the face.

“Oh, Iwa-chan is jealous! I’m so flattered.”

He said in a singsong voice, snuggling into Iwaizumi who went a little stiff at the words.

“Knock it off, Assikawa.”

Iwaizumi sighed, looking forwards, not at Oikawa, now leaning his head against his shoulder. (How did they manage to avoid this for so long?)

“Aren’t you scared I might run away with some pretty girl, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa teased, half for fun, half for needing some kind of validation from Iwaizumi’s answer. (He was the reason they were avoiding this. His fault.)

“You wouldn’t.”

Iwaizumi replies, leaning his head to knock against Oikawa’s. It’s peaceful, somehow. (It’s never Iwaizumi’s fault, always Oikawa’s.)

“So what? I am a complete gentleman.”

Oikawa can’t let the moment last, pulling away, dramatically pulling his fist to his chest, and making some kind of huffing sound. (Always, always, always.)

“Shut up.”

And before Oikawa had a chance to respond, Iwaizumi was on him again, lips pressed to his, this time mouth open. I wasn’t really a tentative thing for either of them,  tongues sliding over, and it was hot, and wet, and somehow distracting and just so _good_ it took his breath away,

“Mm, you’re so mean to me.”

Oikawa said, breaking apart to inhale before leaning back into the kiss.

“You like it.”

Iwaizumi grumbles, hands settling on Oikawa’s waist.

“Maybe.”

Oikawa quips, moving his hands away, leaning back to quickly pull off his shirt.

“Slow down.”

Iwaizumi looks at him sternly, placing a hand on his leg just as Oikawa manages to drop his shirt somewhere beside them.  

“Why? Just take off your shirt.”

Oikawa replied, really wanting to get things going, moving forwards, moving on. He trusted Iwaizumi, maybe always have, felt no fear moving forwards from this to whatever's next, maybe he'd feel less exposed, maybe.

Iwaizumi held out a hand to stop him.

“Things are moving too fast.”

Oikawa shot him a look of confusion, trying to resist the urge to move to some kind of less vulnerable expression or teasing.

“Too fast or too far, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi shook his head, breathing shallowly, probably trying to stay in control. Oikawa still ran his hands just under the bottom of Iwaizumi’s shirt to touch skin.

“You’re going to, ah, back out.”

He groaned, and Oikawa froze.

“What?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes met his. (Oikawa felt trapped under that stare, so perceptive, so _knowing_.)

“You’re not comfortable, and I’m not going to force you to push that.”

Wait, he was concerned? No, no no, Oikawa wanted this. (He shouldn’t.) He wanted this so much he could nearly taste it.

“Iwa-cha-”

Iwaizumi cut him off, leaning in to kiss him quickly, chastely, both arms now around Oikawa’s neck.

“No.”

Oikawa pulled away, trying to get some room to breathe.

“Nngh, let me talk.”

Iwaizumi's raising an eyebrow, looking at him in disbelief, but sitting back to let Oikawa do whatever he felt like.

“That’s never lead to anything good.”

Oikawa knew that was a sign to continue, maybe argue his case, explain, do it fast.

“I've been thinking about you for years."

He shifted a little, dropping his head to look at Iwa-chan through his own dark lashes, tries to look interested in him. (Doubts he’s ever truly been interested in anyone else.)

“So long, Iwa-chan, all last week, too.”

Holds onto Iwaizumi’s arms and hands by the wrists. (Even those were thick. Oikawa’s not sure he’s ever felt so delicate, next to Iwa-chan, emotionally.)

“I thought about you when I was fucking myself, on my hand, all that time. Had your jacket too, smelled you, thought about you."

Oikawa's mouth is right by Iwaizumi's ear, he's making his own voice lower, breathy.

"But you knew about that, right? Your scent, my heat, me whimpering, face buried in your jacket, wet, fingers rubbing deep inside?"

Some part of Iwaizumi seemed to snap at those words, and he’s now grabbing Oikawa’s hands, caging him in with his body.

"Okay, fine. I'm taking charge, though."

Iwa-chan says gruffly, returning the favour, nipping at Oikawa’s earlobe.

"Who said I'd let you?"

Oikawa says, trying to stifle a gasp, he’s just playing, they both know where this is going to end, but he needs to put up a fight, a little, some kind, can’t just let this happen. (Why does he have to be so _difficult?_ )

"I'll make you let me. I can take care of you, Oikawa."

He can’t help but give in at those words, he’s just been resisting this for so long, and he’s awful, so awful for just giving up like this.

"Iwa-chan..."

He manages to say, looking at his (wonderful, amazing, way, way too good for him but _his_ ) Iwaizumi.

"Let's get to your room, first."

And Iwaizumi took his hand, and they were moving up the stairs, over to the side, (of course he knew which one was Oikawa’s room,) and the realization that _fuck_ , they were going to do this sunk into his veins.

Iwaizumi wasted no time pulling off his shirt, and really, his back may as well have been sculpted by angels or something and Oikawa’s pathetic, just looking and already feeling so into it. They both take off their pants, underwear, socks, quickly, Oikawa’s averting his eyes like they’re just changing in a locker room. (But this is so, so much more.)

The moment he turns, Iwaizumi has his arms around him again, lips on his, and whatever hurry they were in is paused in favour of Iwaizumi nipping his lower lip, making him whine, Oikawa rolling his tongue against Iwaizumi’s.

(God, he smells fantastic, so much better now he’s in his arms, his room.)

Iwaizumi’s stepping forwards so Oikawa’s moving back, and he feels his calves press against the side of his bed, pushes at Iwaizumi’s (broad, tanned) chest so he can turn, shove the covers onto the floor, and clamber on.

Iwaizumi’s not far behind, hands arranging Oikawa (and he let’s him) so that he’s propped up against some pillows. The room should probably be cold, but it isn’t, not with Iwaizumi climbing in, more beside him, one hand rubbing at his thigh, the other in his hair, holding Oikawa into the kiss. (The angle is awkward, but, Oikawa’d let Iwaizumi do _anything_.)

“You’re really hot.”

Iwaizumi pants, pulling away, pushing Oikawa down, so he’s half over him, legs tangled together but Iwaizumi further down, nipping at Oikawa’s earlobe.

“I like you.”

Oikawa manages to whisper, since he didn’t reciprocate it earlier, had to look away from Iwa-chan, he couldn't. Something like that was too embarrassing to say face to face.

“I know.”

Iwaizumi breathes, latching onto a spot on his neck, sucking lightly, one hand sliding up Oikawa’s side to quickly rub at his pink nipple, making Oikawa’s breath catch in his throat, hand moving further up to push his shoulder down.

The grey light filtering in from his window seems to be flickering, Oikawa tries to catch his breath, look over to see it’s actually started raining, let words fall out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying.

"Iwa-chan, how do you think thunderstorms sound in an apartment, in the city?"

Oikawa breathed, looking down at Iwaizumi, he was biting at Oikawa's skin, all over, but currently focused in on playing with his pale chest with his mouth and teeth and tongue.

Iwaizumi pulled away, he heard himself whine, just a little. Iwaizumi's breath over the slick, hardened flesh, made him whimper, Iwaizumi's intense eyes fixed to his.

"You're very far from the ground, so, you wouldn't hear it hitting the pavement."

Iwaizumi slowly dragged his tongue over one, moved up the hand planted by Oikawa's hip to play with the other. Oikawa was arching his back, just a little, the feelings a little overwhelming.

His face was burning, Oikawa knew he was probably flushed up to his ears, (pathetic) as Iwaizumi continued to stare at him, watching his reactions.

"You're not the top floor either, so you wouldn't hear it on the roof."

He could feel himself, hard, so hard, wet, maybe more wet than hard, Iwaizumi’s stomach shifting beside him giving hardly any friction.

Iwaizumi leaned back in, lightly brushing his lips over the sore flesh, making him shiver.

Oikawa thought, hazily, the pattering of the rain on the roof he heard around them both in that moment was the perfect accompaniment to his racing heart.

Iwazumi returned to sucking at it, hard, scraping his teeth over it lightly as he pulled back. The smirk he gave to Oikawa was nothing short of sinful as he blew air over the slick flesh, making him twist a little, arch his back. This was so unfair, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams while Iwaizumi looked too content to unravel him as slowly as possible.

He felt Iwaizumi shift, pull him so that he was straddling him, Oikawa now centered on the bed, center of Iwaizumi’s attention.

"And if you're not on the side the rain's blowing into, I guess you'd hear only a little bit of it."

The other fingers pinched down, hard. Oikawa gasped, arching more as they took a few seconds to let go before pulling at it a little more, twisting and tugging and rubbing again, Iwaizumi just slowly lapping at the other one, his head spun at the contrast, felt himself get even wetter between his legs.

"You'd hear the thunder the same as anyone else, though."

The other hand pulled away, joining the mouth toying with his other nipple (tracing circles, tongue still just there, barely moving) Oikawa couldn't ignore the feeling, watching Iwaizumi do it, the things he could see were overwhelming him when combined with everything Iwaizumi was making him _feel._

"See the lightning, too."

The other hand returned, now wet with saliva. Iwaizumi's deep voice rumbled against his skin made him tremble, the sound like the storm outside, he tried to push his head back against the sheets, try to ground himself from the intensity.

Oikawa let his eyes slide shut from embarrassment, it was too much to watch, to feel. He was so wet, so hard, and Iwazumi was only playing with his chest, hadn't been playing with his chest for all that long.

Both his hand and mouth were rough now, Oikawa didn't quite know if his nipples could be bruised but they were horribly sore in the moment, (he couldn't really tell if it hurt or felt good, but he didn't want Iwaizumi to stop) and Iwaizumi was probably not going to give him any reprieve from this.

Oikawa made some needy sound he wasn't sure he could make when Iwaizumi pinched down again, hard, lapped at the other, felt his back arch harder, dick stiff and aching. Something about this all was unbearable, excruciating.

Iwaizumi wasn't even touching him below the waist and Oikawa wants to cry because he might come just with this. (What is he, some stereotypical blushing virgin?)

Maybe he was so close just because it _was_ Iwaizumi.

He's so caught up trying to swallow any more embarrassing sounds that he doesn't notice Iwaizumi has stopped, he's trying so hard to not squirm from the sudden lack of sensation.

"I like you like this."

Iwaizumi finally pulled himself up, brushing his lips against Oikawa's jaw, Oikawa shivered, cracking his eyes open at the probably brief respite from the hands and lips and mouth on his body, breaths still uneven.

"You like me all the time, Iwa-chan."

The words slide out, voice shaky and a little hoarse. (He sounds desperate.) Oikawa feels the other smile into his neck, looks at Iwaizumi’s body draped over his own, settled on top of him. (Oikawa’s bed is hardly large enough for himself, let alone the both of them, tight, together.)

"Yeah."

Iwaizumi just took a moment to nuzzle against him a bit, Oikawa trying to breathe regularly, calm down from whatever that was. (Amazing.)

The feeling of Iwaizumi’s hand trailing down from his waist, over his hips and onto his thigh brings him out of his daze, pulls a little bit on Iwaizumi’s shoulders to prop himself up further, move back a little to get closer to the pillows and the headboard so he could look down at him but Iwaizumi's climbing off his bed, (has he always looked this good?) and Oikawa hardly hears the words, too caught up in taking in just how much they've missed all this time.

"Hey, Oikawa, spread your legs."

He feels himself blush, and smirks to try and cover up any trace of unease. 

“Getting serious, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa says, trying to look cocky as he parts his thighs, as Iwaizumi settled himself in between them. (Terrible act. No one would ever believe this, he's a wreck.)

“You’re cute.”

Oikawa wasn’t expecting that, felt sort of flustered, blush rising to his cheeks.

“Iwa-chan, don’t.”

He said, eyes closing in humiliation. (Why was this so damn hard for him?) But Iwaizumi’s hands are rubbing at his thighs, and he's just _feeling_ so, so much.

Oikawa jerks and whines when Iwaizumi decides to stop screwing around, and slide in a finger. (He was right, they are a little bigger, his hands were less dainty.) Iwa-chan’s other hand is kneading at him, his dense thighs, and Oikawa wants to look but he’s so, so sure he couldn’t stand looking.

Then the hand is moving, and Oikawa’s hardly aware of the fact he’s arching back, pushing against, he needs that little bit of burn to keep his mind but Iwaizumi’s hand is shifting up from it’s place on his inner thigh to dig those rough fingers into his hip, pressing down, preventing Oikawa from bucking against it.

(Just one finger, pathetic, _pathetic_ , it’s just one and he's getting so worked up.)

Iwaizumi keeps drawing it out, at some point leans down to press a soft kiss to the inside of his knee, finger moving slow, and deep.

At some point, a second finger joins the first, and Oikawa mewls, breath catching in his throat, there are wet sounds, and it’s partially disgusting, partially so, _so_ , fucking hot. Iwaizumi’s still keeping him pinned down, but he’s thrashing, just a little, can’t stay still, pulling one hand up so he can bit his own knuckles, the other clutching helplessly at the bedsheets.

“Please, hurry, Iwazumi.”

He whines out, quickly returning to bite at his hand after speaking. Iwaizumi’s moving a little faster in response, but, it’s still too slow, so slow. There’s hardly any pain, any sting, any burn, he’s so, so turned on and Iwa-chan’s so, so patient. The slow drag of his fingers inside, stretching him, makes Oikawa want to cry.

“Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi breathes, sucking a bruise onto one of Oikawa’s trembling thighs. (So good, makes his toes curl, hand still scrambling at the sheets, trying to find something clutch and finding absolutely nothing at all.) He looks down, and immediately regrets it, Iwa-chan’s eyes are dark, and he looks so lewd, cock hard, and he’s flushed all over, and it’s awful, so awful, it’s excruciating but it makes him want to moan, and Iwaizumi slides in one more finger.

Oikawa cries out, harshly, this one addition feels like so much _more_ and the pressure feels like more and everything feels like more and he’s still so wet. (The sounds are so obscene, gross arousing.)

“I like hearing you.”

He hardly hears Iwaizumi’s low voice over his own heartbeat, and the hand anchoring his hip is still pressing down, holding him still, but Iwaizumi’s not going slowly anymore, worked his way up to a moderate pace that has Oikawa whining, legs shaking, head pushing back against the sheets as he can’t help but try to look back down past his heaving chest at Iwaizumi, driving his hand into him with a little more force. (The strokes are still long, so long, and he’s still feeling _everything_.)

“That’s it.”

Then Iwaizumi stills, smirking at Oikawa, and he’s not sure whether to be terrified, ashamed, or excited about what Iwaizumi’s maybe thinking of doing to him.

He curls in his fingers, and Oikawa yells, feeling sparks of pleasure jolt as Iwaizumi rubs over his prostate _perfectly_. (He’s not sure he can describe the feeling, just a mess of good, so good it makes it so hard for him to think straight.)

Iwaizumi starts fucking him with his fingers again, but then stroking at him every time he’s all the way in, and Oikawa feels so tight, so wet, stops trying to hold back any sound because when he makes some kind of noise, Iwaizumi goes _harder_ and it’s exactly what he wants to feel.

(This is great, this is _so much_ better than he could have ever, ever imagined.)

And then Iwaizumi’s moving up his body, hands moving away (the sudden feeling of emptiness makes him want to whine) to hold his hips, caress his thighs. (Iwaizumi couldn’t seem to get enough of his legs.) Grabs one hand, after, nuzzles the teeth marks from where Oikawa bit to try and keep his voice down. He presses a light kiss to Oikawa’s collarbone, shifting upwards to just look at him.

(Iwa-chan’s perfect like this, strong jawline, sharp eyes, all focused on him.)

He should've closed the blinds completely, the blue light pouring in from the stormy outdoors, the water cresting over the glass and sliding down testament to how heavy the rain was outside.

It felt like time was passing so slowly.

The rain usually made him feel cold, but now it was all heat and Iwaizumi on top of him and Iwaizumi touching him, and Iwaizumi, in general, in his bed.

Had anything ever made this much sense?

Oikawa shifted his head a little, pulled himself up a tiny bit to nip at Iwaizumi's neck.

"Kiss me."

He breathed against Iwaizumi's collarbone, hitching both his hands so his arms could circle around Iwaizumi's neck, laying back down, trying to pull Iwaizumi back over him.

Iwaizumi followed a little bit, but pulled up a little, pecking Oikawa on the nose before sitting up entirely, removing Oikawa's hands from behind his head, letting them fall onto the bed.

Oikawa's about to complain that wasn't what he meant by 'kiss', but Iwaizumi's already climbed off him, is standing by the bedside, also saying something, gets his words out before Oikawa can open his mouth.

"Turn over."

Oikawa blinks, the words taking a minute to register before he feels the blush return, his heart is beating fast again, in his chest, tries to get up on wobbly elbows, manages to end up on his face, kneeling as he feels Iwaizumi shift behind him.

He feels like there's some kind of time delay between him, and Iwaizumi. Something that makes his mind feel languid, movements feel slow.

It's still raining, outside.

He manages to prop himself up a little bit on his arms, bent at the elbows, ass still higher, legs open, Iwaizumi could probably see _everything_.

Oikawa shudders at the thought, eyes shut again, this turned him on, this was humiliating. He should ask if they could do it another way. (It'd be less hot as fuck but he's not sure his ego can take this.)

He opens his mouth to ask just as Iwaizumi's hand (rough, warm, _big_ ) strokes his hip, and his mind goes blank. The other hand is splayed out just a little lower than his stomach, pressing in, making Oikawa tilt his hips out, he whines, can't hold in the sound at the situation, it forces his chest closer to the bed, rub against the sheets.

(Pathetic, spreading his legs, ducking his head, making high, breathy sounds like the submissive little toy that everyone expects him to be.)

Iwaizumi groans a little, at the sight, at the sounds, sends chills down Oikawa's spine he can't really understand or control. Thought being together like this might be easy too, but it's raw, so horribly open and every second feels electric.

The way he's reacting to everything Iwaizumi is making him feel is _disgusting_. Oikawa clenches at the sheets with both hands, closes his eyes. He needs to get a damn grip.

Deep breaths. In, out.

(It’s not helping, all he can smell is Iwaizumi, and it’s so good.)

And then, Iwa-chan is draped over his back, or partially, hands on either side of his own, and he's warm, the skin-on-skin contact sending chills down his spine, and there are lips mumbling into his skin.

“Stop thinking so hard.”

Iwaizumi nips a little at the back of Oikawa's neck before leaning back to position himself, and Oikawa can’t hold in some whimpering sound. He's tense. He _knows_ he's tense and that he needs to relax but it's so much harder to do it than to know it needs to be done and-

"I'm waiting."

Iwaizumi's voice is low, deep, and Oikawa tries his best to release all this tension he’s holding because if anything, he trusts Iwaizumi, and shouldn’t let his damn insecurities get in the way of whatever they could have. (Not that he should. He doesn’t deserve whatever this could be, he’s sort of fucked up as an omega and he just shouldn’t force someone else to deal with his shit.)

“Impatient, Iwa-chan.”

He says, tries to hide his inner neuroses because he’s a _mess_ and he’s coming apart at the seams until he feels some weight shift behind him, but, then nothing, Iwaizumi must’ve stood up or left or-

“Iwa-chan?”

And there’s someone pulling at his shoulder, back, and he opens his eyes and there’s just Iwaizumi, looking at him, serious expression, some kind of promise in his dark eyes. (He looks great like this, he always looks fantastic, but, like this…)

“Hey, get up, I have an idea.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow a little, voice uncertain as he moves to sit up on his bed, trying to keep looking at Iwaizumi and not letting his eyes wonder over the tanned skin, powerful build that made something inside him fucking _yearn_ to have that body all over him. (Specifically over him, dominating him.)

“You’re not backing out on me, right?”

He says, all breathy, voice shaking as he stands up beside the bed. Iwaizumi somehow moves on as soon as Oikawa got up, lying down, shoulders, upper back against the headboard.

“Not a chance."

Iwaizumi replies, tilting his head to look at Oikawa, still standing. (His voice isn’t as shaky, husky, also sort of breathy and for some reason it sounds like so many different things, reassurances, what’s to come.) Iwa-chan’s offering him a hand, and he takes it, moving to straddle Iwaizumi’s stomach. Oikawa feels some wetness somewhere underneath him when he sits for a slight moment, cringes, looks away in shame using his hands to cover his face. (Disgusting. He’s so turned on, pathetic, gross.)

Iwaizumi lets out some shaky breath at the same time, now having one hand on Oikawa’s hip, rubbing it soothingly, the other situated on his thigh. (Why is it so embarrassing, like this? On top of Iwaizumi, body on display.)

“Please, Iwa-chan.”

He manages to pant out, still not able to meet the other’s eyes, letting his close completely. (They were so close like this.) But then Iwaizumi’s gripping his hips, leaning up to kiss his collarbone and Oikawa has no idea where to put his hands so he settles for Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“You should ride me, Tooru.”

His voice is basically a whisper, but Oikawa’s eyes fly open in shock, breath stuttering. Did he really? Yes. Probably. _Shit._

He looks down at Iwaizumi, who's looking at him just, softly.

Dramatic. He's being so fucking dramatic.

Oikawa lifts himself up a bit, so that he's standing on his knees, and Iwa-chan still has one hand on his hips, but he's leaning up, reaching around. (Some circuit in Oikawa's brain sparks, and he knows _exactly_ what Iwaizumi's doing.)

"Ready?"

Iwaizumi asks, looking somewhere behind Oikawa, focused. (Attractive, overwhelmingly attractive.)

He bites his lower lip, nods, moves his hand behind him to meet with Iwaizumi's hand, makes sure he's about in the right place and then he's sitting back and there's just this pressure that makes his knees feel weak and he's almost slipping but Iwa-chan at some point moved his hands to support the bottom of his thighs and he has his head buried in Iwaizumi's shoulder and arms around his back and he can hear Iwaizumi's voice and words and groans so _clearly_ like this.

"Ngh, easy."

One word, and Iwaizumi sounded wrecked, Oikawa tries to respond but only manages to whine, a little, lowering himself steadily with some help from the rough hands gripping and rubbing at his legs.

(It's, it, feels bigger than he thought, just solid, and there's a little bit of a burning feeling but mostly it's just _intense_ and he needs to pause for a second for a moment to get a hold of himself.)

Iwaizumi helps him hold himself up, practically knowing what he was going to do and this intuition was so, so perfect.

Oikawa's eyes are still shut, he can feel some tears, wet on Iwaizumi's shoulder and his lashes and he's just pathetic.

And then he tries to move again, sinks a little deeper. (Iwaizumi's just holding him, and he feels so fucking _secure_.) And he eventually bottoms out, groans shakily, arms still holding on.

"Take a moment."

Iwaizumi sounds just a little desperate but mostly concerned and there's suddenly a hand rubbing his back and prying in between them to stroke Oikawa's neglected cock and he's just squirming, crying, eyes shut, whimpering at the feeling of Iwaizumi's hand, Iwaizumi deep inside him.

Oikawa moves a hand back to Iwaizumi's shoulders (broad, solid) and uses his other to put the hand rubbing his back onto his hip and he's pulling himself up. (The way he was rubbing against him, the slight pain, the fullness all felt _perfect,_ and he was so so disgusting for liking it this much.) And he's lowering his hips, now, slowly, trying to get into some rhythm while his breath keeps getting broken up by shaky moans.

He stays like this, slow, just moving so slowly and savouring the burn, the friction, how Iwaizumi's hand is stroking him in the same kind of way he's moving.

"Hey, look at me."

Oikawa's eyes are open, and fixed onto Iwaizumi's before he has a moment to even think about what's being asked of him.

"Fuck, you're-ngh!, B-Beautiful."

Iwaizumi pants out. Oikawa isn't sure if he can feel any more embarrassed, just completely overwhelmed. He has to repress the urge to hide his face, again, feeling the flush set into his cheeks, the tips of his ears.

“I-Iwa-chan, please.”

He whines, stilling his movements, Iwa-chan in him to the hilt. (God, his legs are shaking.) He’s not sure how to phrase what he wants (what he _needs_ because this is a little too much and he just can’t) and his breath keeps catching in his throat and he can’t think clearly.

Iwaizumi’s moving underneath him, thick arms moving to support Oikawa as he moves up, Oikawa can’t help but whimper at feeling the shift, arms moving again around Iwaizumi’s neck.

“Shh, you’re okay. Hold on.”

Iwa-chan’s voice is so deep like this, and he clutches at Iwaizumi’s back and arms and clings, moaning just a little bit because they were so close like this and Iwa-chan was just holding him so tight and Iwaizumi’s sitting up, standing up. (He holds Oikawa’s weight like it doesn’t even phase him and that’s somehow the biggest kink Oikawa never ever knew he had.)

The next time Oikawa dares open his eyes, his back is on the sheets, and Iwaizumi’s on top of him. (Still deep, full, he's never been this out of breath in his life.)

“Please, Iwaizumi, please.”

(Gross. He’s gross. He’s begging to be fucked so hard and deep and he hates himself for wanting it but he _does_.)

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, just pulls out a bit, thrusts back in and Oikawa’s back is arching, he throws his head back against the bed and Iwaizumi’s pulling his legs over his shoulders, then Iwaizumi’s hand is back, jerking him off, and it’s so much and he’s just so close, already.

Iwa-chan finds a rhythm so much easier than Oikawa did, and it’s steady, it’s so much steadier, and it’s good, so good, but too slow. Oikawa can’t hold in his little gasps, moans, whiny sounds, but Iwaizumi’s not all that loud, groaning, grunting a little, and Oikawa has no idea if the rain’s stopped or if he just doesn’t care enough to listen for it anymore.

“ _Hajime,_ please, more, it’s, I’m-ah! Good, please.”

Oikawa pleads, voice cracking. (It’s messy, he can feel it all over, leaking down.) Winding one hand around Iwaizumi’s neck, the other into his thick hair, and his back’s still arching, he’s trembling. (Probably looks so lewd, disgusting.)

Iwa-chan makes some low sound in response, leans further, thrusts harder, and he’s _wailing_ , hands clenching, clinging, this way, Iwaizumi’s rubbing right up against his prostate and he’s so, so close.

Iwaizumi’s starting to move more unevenly, just as Oikawa’s feeling his muscles jolt unevenly and he has to close his eyes, hold on hard to something, anything, he can’t be feeling like this, reacting like this. He can’t (but he does) love being fucked just like this.

“Iwa-chan, I-I’m going, I-ah!, please H-Hajime, I can’t. I _can’t_.”

He's just saying anything, everything, trying to hold on closer, find some outlet for the sheer intensity, some anchor to hold onto because he’s so close and he he feels like he might just shake apart if he can’t find something to hold onto, and not yet, he can’t, and Iwa-chan’s still moving, jerkily, speeding up the one hand, stroking Oikawa firmer, harder.

“ _Let go_ , Tooru.”

Iwaizumi says, moving to bite at Oikawa’s neck and that little bit of stinging pain and a few more hard thrusts push him over the edge, and he’s tensing and gasping and squirming, vaguely aware that Iwaizumi’s sort of stopped, there’s something warm but mostly aware of how _good_ it is, how fucking perfect this all is and his bones are liquified and he can feel tears on his cheeks and Iwaizumi’s groaning and hardly staying upright and they’re both falling to the side, legs just off the side of the bed.

The sun is setting, now, the formerly grey light over the room dyed a faint pink. The rain must have stopped, at some point.

Iwaizumi’s partially sitting up, and Oikawa’s still trying to process what just _happened_ with the aftershocks still wracking his body. He could really feel his heartbeat, felt the wetness between his legs and underneath him. Oikawa burst out laughing.

"We are _so_ using condoms, next time."

He said, voice raspy, sitting up, Iwaizumi already standing, walking out his door to the linen closet across the hall.

"Should’ve found one this time. Your mom won't mind me staying over, right?"

Iwa-chan said, voice less rough but just as breathy. He sounded exerted, exhausted, and Oikawa felt tired to his bones, but also happy. Happier than he's been for a long time.

"She's not home, also she would."

He scolded, moving the pillow off his bed, removing the sheets. Oikawa grimaced as he felt _something_ sliding down his leg.

"Well, my parents don't, and it's too late to walk home."

Iwaizumi returned to the room, towel and spare sheet in tow, began to make Oikawa's bed for the both of them.

"What if I kick you out?"

He mused, looking over at Iwaizumi's sluggish movements.

"What if I kick you in the shins?"

Iwaizumi said gruffly, helping Oikawa wipe off most of the mess after he had cleaned himself off.

"Why are you so violent with me?"

Oikawa fell onto the bed, face first. Iwaizumi sighed deeply, it sounded both irritated, and fond.

Iwa-chan took a moment to gather Oikawa in his arms so they were fit together, Oikawa's back against his chest, before pulling the covers over them.

"G'night."

Oikawa maybe pushed back against the warm body behind him. Maybe this was alright. (Maybe he’d be okay.) And Iwaizumi is stroking his hair, and he’s not sure if there was ever going to be a moment that could live up to this.

His bed was only really made to fit one person, not two tall teens, pressed together, so they’d have to be close, anyhow, he’s just making sure they don’t fall off. (He’s just making sure he can feel Iwa-chan, draped over his back.)

"Night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would also want to say, I am an advocate of safe sex. Lube makes like, everything better, no exceptions. Also use condoms. Talk before with your partner what you're both game for, watch boundaries, communication is key.


	5. Epilogue: Cyclic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Oikawa, Iwaizumi's cycle is right on time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the supportive comments! I'm always super thrilled to hear them, and, maybe little sad this is the end for this fic, but I'll still be writing in the Haikyuu!! Fandom, and actually may take some more prompts in the near future. Thanks for sticking by me for all 5 chapters! (Also, wow, I had to add a lot of tags for this one.) So here's probably what you've all been waiting for!

It was hardly warm out, and Iwaizumi already felt like he was burning up, being in rut was never _fun_ , but at least it was predictable. (Or, it was predictable until he forgot exactly what it felt like.)

It was maybe 9am, and he was feeling just the fringes of it. Maddening, made him feel every breath he drew in scratching at the back of his throat, mouth dry. Oikawa said he might stop by later. (It was a bad idea, but they were both too stubborn to really co-operate around it.)

At least this was exactly on schedule. He could anticipate this, expect it. Dress appropriately, sweatpants, no shirt, too warm from shirts. Cancel plans. Get someone to pick up his accumulating homework. Get his family out of the house for the weekend since it’d be manageable by the time monday came, maybe.

There was a knock at the door.

"You're early."

Iwaizumi grumbled, glaring at the overly cheery expression Oikawa had on before letting him in. (Was he _prancing_?)

"You don't sound happy to see me, Iwa-chan. I walked all the way here."

Oikawa scolded, immediately turning to look at Iwaizumi after he took off his shoes. (Not that he looked that intimidating, shorts, t-shirt, kicking off sandals.) Iwaizumi snorted.

"You live 3 blocks away."

They’d always lived within in walking distance of each other, even since they were kids. Iwaizumi clearly remembers Oikawa coming over to bother him, nearly every morning in the summer. He was taller back then.

"So?"

Oikawa huffed, walking over to lean on a wall near Iwaizumi. (He always draped himself over furniture, fixtures, gracefully, effortlessly.)

"It hasn't set in yet, anyways."

Iwaizumi leaned back. It felt normal, so normal. Easy, too. Oikawa was fucking beautiful and trying this was a good thing.

(Though his perception might be warped, since they're probably going to have sex, again.)

"I suppose I... _beat the heat_."

Oikawa says, raising an eyebrow, probably internally laughing at his own joke. Iwaizumi wanted to throw him out the door, but settled for flicking Oikawa on the forehead.

"I should kick you for that."

Oikawa flinched, hissing briefly before recovering his act. (This time would be their fourth time.)

"Good, you're still just Iwa-chan."

Oikawa says, sounding self assured, closing his eyes and gingerly placing his hand on his chest, as if in relief. (Asshole.)

“All that intellect, and you use it for that?”

Iwaizumi comments, smacking Oikawa’s hand away, getting up to stand in front of Oikawa, lean against the wall with one hand by Oikawa’s head, placing the other hand in his pocket.

“Rude. You know I am the absolute most hilarious being inside this house.”

Oikawa huffed, smirking at Iwaizumi, eyes dark, knowing. He was just playing around. Iwaizumi wanted to move things along too, but had to make sure, first. (Always had to. Oikawa was so fickle, spacey, never, ever wanted to lose him in haste.)

"You know I probably can't go easy this time, right?"

Oikawa hummed affirmatively, hands tracing over Iwaizumi's arms, Iwaizumi having learned some nights ago _just_ how much Oikawa appreciates his physique, even if he was the shortest among the 3rd years.

"I can manage."

Oikawa says, in a kind of husky voice, keeping eye contact, trying to act coy and it was probably one of the better looks for him. (Iwaizumi had to stay on topic, couldn’t let the back of his throat go dry just yet, couldn’t give into the growing itch in his blood.)

"Oikawa, I mean it's still going to be obvious we had sex by practice, monday."

Iwaizumi says bluntly, raising an eyebrow at Oikawa, who only smiled at him like he didn’t say anything at all. (He had to have heard, was always a little scared of the team finding out, anyone finding out.)

"I don't care."

He replied, still in that breathy voice, still looking at Iwaizumi with such unconcealed _want_.

"Yes you do."

Iwaizumi breathed out, practically running out of willpower. (Damn pretty annoying attractive jerk. Damn pretty annoying and so self-conscious jerk.)

"I want this more."

Oikawa said, closing his eyes, dropping his head to their foreheads were touching. It was such an innocent action, and definitely got the point across that Oikawa really trusted him with this. (Though, somehow melodramatic, at the same time.)

"Sure?"

Iwaizumi said, also closing his eyes, enjoying the moment between them. (Deep breaths, maybe this would be okay.)

"Certain."

Oikawa says, and that soft, lilting tone is back, filled with promise, Iwaizumi didn’t have to look to know there was that same smug grin pulling at his lips again. For some reason, that was more arousing than it had any right to be.

"Good, everyone's going to know you're mine."

Iwaizumi grumbles, those feelings he usually tried to control and usually didn’t have so much boiling over. Oikawa was always just so friendly to everyone else, open, and that was okay, just, private reassurances never felt like much.

Of course, this moment still felt like everything.

“So possessive, Iwa-chan.”

Oikawa taunts, and Iwaizumi’s grabbing his hand, pulling him up the stairs, and they’re hardly in the hallway before somehow he’s kissing Oikawa again, back against the wall, and Oikawa’s hands all over him and his hand intertwined in Oikawa’s hair and holding him by his shoulder, until he pushes him away.

“Slow down, a bit, Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi breathes. He’s a little more… _into it_ , than he’d like right now. Damn rut.

“Even now?”

Oikawa’s giving him that smile again, and for some reason, Oikawa’s hands are on hips, brushing against the exposed skin of his torso.

“I mean, I’m…”

Iwaizumi stumbles with his words. Oikawa knows. He should know, the way they were pressing against each other just moments ago.

“How about I slow things down for us?”

Oikawa says, slow and wanting, and the way he’s looking up at Iwaizumi through his eyelashes, smug grin loose on his slightly open mouth, that look, maybe a little calculating, mostly just intent, should be _illegal_ , and Iwaizumi almost misses Oikawa’s hands sliding below the waistband of his pants. It all feels so surreal.

“Oikawa…”

Iwaizumi breathes, and Oikawa’s getting onto his knees, still looking up at Iwaizumi. (Oikawa's still fully dressed, for some reason.)

“I’m fine, but if you try for multiple times, you’re out of luck, Iwa-chan.”

And he doesn’t have time to respond, Oikawa’s hand is stroking him, mouth open, eyes no longer focused on Iwaizumi, and he’s leaning forwards, and Iwaizumi groans.

Oikawa’s planning on sucking him off. _Fuck._

(His lips are around his cock, now, hand moving back, Oikawa knew what to do, and Iwaizumi isn’t sure when his hand made it’s way into Oikawa’s hair, isn’t paying attention.)

"So, if you're a quickdraw, that's no fun."

Iwaizumi closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the wall, breathing heavy, feels Oikawa’s voice as much as hears it. (He didn’t know Oikawa was thinking of going this way, never did, it’s certainly not the first time but was it such a good idea to do this while he’s in rut?)

All the questions and doubts and thoughts fly out of his head because now Oikawa’s taking him _deeper_ , lapping at the head when he’s pulling back, and he’s just doing it again, and again, even, methodically.

(His nerves feel too sensitive, he feels like he’s falling apart, the rut’s probably going to _really_ set in, soon.)

Oikawa likes being in control. Maybe gets the same kind of high from wrecking Iwaizumi as Iwaizumi gets from making a mess of Oikawa.

"Oikawa..."

Iwaizumi groans, feels himself about to finish, needs to warn him. (Of course he wasn’t going to last long, he’s been on the fringe for what feels like hours.)

And Oikawa’s taking him deep, again, and that’s it.

It feels intense, somehow amplified, like things in rut always do. (Why was he so good at this?) Iwaizumi was still slightly embarrassed by how quick that was, how fast that went by. He didn’t knot, though, which means for certain it’s not entirely here. He opens his eyes to look down at Oikawa, tries to calm his breathing.

Oikawa coughs, licks his lips, and he’s standing up, and it’s all Iwaizumi can do to stay standing, back against the wall. (Oikawa’s still looking at him like he wants to do so many things to him, wants Iwaizumi to do so many things to him.)

(Oh, fuck, Oikawa _swallowed_.)

"No need to thank me."

Oikawa says, kind of smugly, and his voice is rough, (Iwaizumi tries not to think about why, tries not to get too into it again too soon,) and the way Oikawa’s eyes are looking at him, it’s a futile effort.

"Actually, good time to bring up refractory periods."

Iwaizumi says, moving to kick off his pants, or, as best he can with Oikawa up against him, clearly looking for _something_ from him.

"Hmm?"

Oikawa hums, nuzzling into Iwaizumi's shoulder, lanky arms wrapped around his back. The languid way he’s moving makes Iwaizumi feel like it’s Oikawa who just got off, not him, the rut kind of prevented him from having the moment to relax, he needed to move on.

"The fact you have none."

Iwaizumi mutters, right into Oikawa's ear.

His hands are already undoing the closure on Oikawa's shorts, (he’s surprised they’re so steady, they were shaking just a moment ago,) sliding them off along with his briefs, both palms eventually settling on the back of his thighs as underwear fell to pool around Oikawa's ankles.

(Oikawa wasn't as warm as he usually was, in comparison, but Iwaizumi could feel him quivering, could feel wetness as one hand slid up, and in between.)

Oikawa let out a high, breathy sound at that, pulling himself closer to Iwaizumi. (He could hear him so much _better_ like this.)

Iwaizumi needs just a little more, more of Oikawa surprised and clinging and crying out, something in his blood demanding he gets moving.

"Relax."

He whispered, as he pushes in two fingers from the very start. (Maybe he being was a hypocrite, knew Oikawa’s eyes were probably wide open in surprise.)

Whatever remained of Oikawa's composure is shattered at that, hips stuttering backwards and arms flung around Iwaizumi's back trying to hold him closer.

Oikawa whines, some sound between pleasure and pain (but the way he's squirming implies the former) as Iwaizumi pushes further in, (the resultant wet noise is so gross and so damn _hot_ at the same time,) the other hand trying to help Oikawa support himself as he whines, desperate, shaking like his legs might give out. (Actually, they might.)

"Were you excited thinking about this, Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi’s muttering into Oikawa’s ear, moved the hand on Oikawa’s body, shifted his own weight back against the wall so he could take more of the weight. Oikawa still had that injury, still wore that leg brace, should probably lay him down, make him fall apart, back on the mattress and hands in his sheets, but this was just so perfect.

"Couldn't wait for me? Excited?"

He shoves both fingers in at a faster pace, now. Oikawa's knees buckle a little, and he's still holding desperately onto Iwaizumi to try and stay standing, leaning against him fully.

Iwaizumi's hand is still holding onto the back of one of Oikawa's thighs, partially holding him up. (He wanted to touch them, _him_ even more, but that had to wait for this.)

Oikawa's breathing hard, whining a little every time Iwaizumi moves, not even trying to move himself, head down, eyes closed now.

When Iwaizumi nudges his head to the side, Oikawa doesn't resist, thin gasps joining almost every inhale, and it's perfect.

"No one gets to see you fall apart but me."

Iwaizumi breathes into the crook of Oikawa's neck before biting down, gently, hearing Oikawa moan, nice and loud in response.

(He loves it when Oikawa's loud. Such a nice voice, can't hold it in for long, cute.)

He's licking at the mark, and Oikawa's sounding even more out of breath and quivering and not even resisting a tiny bit and submitting to whatever Iwaizumi's wants, even when he’s sucking at the same place, nipping it a little, making sure that bruise will be there the next day.

He's moved over to another spot, hears a muffled sound when his teeth graze the skin there. (Oikawa's probably biting his lip.)

Iwaizumi wants to hear him, fucks Oikawa a little harder with his hand to compensate, soon has Oikawa crying out again, squirming against him, and he still needs more, just a bit.

"Hey, you mentioned once that two of my fingers feel like three of yours, was that just talk?"

Iwaizumi mutters, slowing down, and Oikawa's making these choked off sounds and whimpers, poorly muffled by Iwaizumi's shoulder. (Iwaizumi just needs Oikawa under him, letting him take charge, and he supposes that's definitely the rut getting at him because he usually doesn’t need to be so _dominant_.)

"Or are you feeling that full, right now?"

Iwaizumi slides in another finger and Oikawa's gasping, back arching and he's holding onto Iwaizumi harder, trying to ground himself and he's just panting and crying every time Iwaizumi moves his hand.

He's wet, too. Must be really turned on. Must be Iwaizumi's pheromones from being in rut getting to him too. (It wouldn't set off a heat but set off some of the parts of it.) And Oikawa's spreading his legs a little, pushing back into the thrusts and making even more desperate sounds.

"You're so fucking perfect."

The words fall out on their own, he’s not thinking, just getting caught up in Oikawa. (He loves taking Oikawa out of his element, out of his head, knows Oikawa can’t stop thinking, absolutely can’t, but he loves to try.)

"Iwa-chan, please, I'm ready."

(He tries not to think about fucking him, about those sounds he always tried so hard to get from him, wanted to prolong this, draw it out, make it better)

"You're going to finish just with my fingers inside you.”

Iwaizumi ends up saying, surprised by how clear his own voice is when he’s so close to snapping, that thought alone turned him on far too much.

"I _can't_."

Oikawa whines, breathless. Iwaizumi can feel his fingertips digging into his shoulders, hard. Sometimes Oikawa got wound up like this, stuck by his own limitations, needed Iwaizumi to push him over the edge.

(Oikawa’s still wearing his shirt, Iwaizumi doesn’t even remember what it has on it, what colour, anything other than this moment, right now, and this is just the beginning.)

"Yes you can, Tooru, you know that."

Oikawa's gone rigid, body taut with strain at this point, probably going to collapse if he let go of Iwaizumi’s shoulders. Iwaizumi can feel him shaking, like this is the most intense thing he’s ever felt, he’s always so easy to drive to this point, and it suits Iwaizumi just fine.

"This isn't even close to your limits."

He mutters, and Oikawa’s making this soft sound, shaking his head a little. (Like this, height doesn’t matter, when he’s coming apart at the seams in Iwaizumi’s arms.)

"Shh, come on."

He needs to coax Oikawa into it, into falling apart, giving in, and he’s kissing him again. (Tastes himself, doesn’t matter as much as the feeling of Oikawa’s lips on his on, the slide of their tongues, the sounds Oikawa’s making into his mouth.) Iwaizumi needs this, just a little more, he moves his hand faster. (When did he slow down?) Fucks into Oikawa faster until suddenly Oikawa’s arching his back, pulling away, gasping like the feeling’s taking him by surprise.

Oikawa’s moaning, clinging onto Iwaizumi all the time he’s coming, (clenching around his fingers, fuck, it’s so wet,) and then he goes slack, and this time, Iwaizumi holding onto him is really all that’s keeping him upright.

Iwaizumi somehow makes it to his bed, pushes a still dazed Oikawa onto it. (He thanks whatever higher power he remembered to put down a couple towels before he went downstairs that morning, nothing kills the mood like laundry.)

He’s crouching by the bed, Oikawa’s on the edge, and he’s holding Oikawa’s thighs open.

He’s flushed, all over, like this. (Iwaizumi notes how good he looks, how good he always looks.) Oikawa shivers when Iwaizumi’s running his hand up his inner thigh, squeaks when Iwaizumi’s back to feeling them, pulling one up, under the knee, leaning in to suck at the sensitive skin there.

Oikawa’s sighing, squirms a little when he gets back into it, and Iwaizumi’s still kneading at his dense thighs, still nipping at them. (He loved Oikawa’s legs, more than he’d like to admit, loved the way Oikawa’s cock bobbed, as he struggled to escape Iwaizumi’s grip, pull himself up.)

“Mmmm, Iwa-chan, you have an actual condom for this, right?”

Oikawa mumbles, voice sounding worn out, rough, but somehow, still wanting more. (Funny how well Iwaizumi could read his tone, these days.)

“Of course, what, are you feeling it too?”

He replies, letting go and standing up to find it on his bedside table, opening it, notices Oikawa pulling off his shirt, watching him in anticipation.

“Iwa-chan.”

(Leave a reservoir tip, Oikawa ‘helps’, ever the tease, asshole, beautiful, jerk.)

Once he’s set he’s climbing back over Oikawa, has them both lying down the proper way, on his bed.

“You’re mine, Tooru.”

Iwaizumi said, moving so he’s on top of Oikawa, brushing his lips against his. (He still feels a little too warm, but this was taking the forefront of his mind.)

“Maybe, yeah.”

Oikawa replies, leaning up to peck Iwaizumi on the lips, before pushing him off, turning over.

Iwaizumi wants to say he pulls a blank, but, knows exactly what Oikawa’s thinking of doing. (Usually didn’t want to do it from behind, found it embarrassing, found it hard to handle, though it was pretty typical.)

“Okay?”

Iwaizumi breathes, meeting Oikawa’s eyes.

“Okay.”

Oikawa replies, giving him kind of a sultry look. (Ass, probably thought about this before, always overthinking, always a couple steps ahead.)

Iwaizumi’s behind him, now, has one hand on Oikawa’s hip, (like this he can see just the difference between his own tanned skin and Oikawa’s, he looked so pale,) and the other to guide his cock in, and he’s moving forward. Oikawa sighs, he gasps, sharp inhale in. (Wonders if it’s just as shocking, just as good for Oikawa.)

The first few thrusts are a bit heavy, uneven, Oikawa’s sighing, whining a little when one’s particularly _good_ and eventually they have a good pace, they’re moving together, and it’s good or maybe it’s perfect.

(He wants to remember how Oikawa feels, sounds, like this.)

Oikawa always cries when they do something, or, when Iwaizumi's doing something to him, to be more accurate. Iwaizumi knows it's because he's overwhelmed, at the sensations, maybe the emotions, probably ashamed, but to see Oikawa shaking and crying and _submitting_ to him always makes something deep inside practically purr with satisfaction.

Oikawa wasn't always the most clear in communication, he'd sometimes be overly convoluted or dramatic, but his body was brutally honest. Open like a book, or, to Iwaizumi, anyways. Oikawa was struggling with himself and as much as that made Iwaizumi want to stop and make sure he was okay with every new step they take, Oikawa made it very clear he wanted Iwaizumi to just get on with it, sometimes. (Of course, he still did stop, his concern for Oikawa was greater than just how much he needed to continue.)

Oikawa never did like saying when he was having trouble, anyways.

Iwaizumi knew Oikawa would never, ever do this with someone else. Not at this time. That kind of trust made this whole thing a different experience, their unique kind of relationship. Something so distinctly intimate, and it was the wrong time for that, not now, all he could do it take, take, take, like this.  

And right now, something in his bones insisted he just takes Oikawa harder, marks him up, reduce him to some shivering wreck. Loved knowing Oikawa was crying because it was probably from the overload of sensations and feelings, and maybe, probably, because it was so good for him.

(Wanted to make sure Oikawa felt good, was enjoying this at least half as much as he was.)

“Touch me.”

Oikawa whines out, sounding like he was spaced out, only sort of holding on.

“No.”

He wanted to see it all again, Oikawa coming just from being fucked. (He sounded so good like this, pleading, desperate.)

“ _Hajime._ ”

Oikawa must be desperate, might be tense, must be _so close_ to the edge.

“I said no, I’m certain you can come like this.”

(He knows Oikawa can, knows Oikawa’s so sensitive, knows how much he likes being able to hide his face, knows how much he likes the shame and the implications of being fucked like this.)

“Please, I’d, I’ll do it myself, but you feel so much better, please.”

Oikawa’s mumbling, just talking for the sake of, like he can’t shut himself up.

“You won’t."

Iwaizumi asserts, feeling Oikawa squirm just a little bit, and he’s slowing down his thrusts, hears Oikawa make some desperate moan at the change. (Wants to draw this out, take Oikawa apart.)

“What makes you think that, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa questions, pushing back against Iwaizumi, trying to get him to go faster, harder, anything, probably. (Oikawa was so transparent, so honest, in these moments.)

“I told you not to.”

Iwaizumi growls, deep, feels Oikawa shiver in response. (Wishes he could see his face, Oikawa was probably blushing, eyes half open, maybe a bit teary, maybe his eyes were closed, face scrunched up, cute.)

“You’re right on the edge, Tooru, come on.”

(Oikawa’s panting, arching his back, whining, so close, he must be so close.)

“That’s it, fuck you’re so pretty like this.”

Iwaizumi groans, shifting up a little, (the change in angle or maybe the flattery makes Oikawa squeak,) and bites his neck, partially over a different hickey he left there earlier. (Didn’t want to say it, but loved the sounds Oikawa makes when there’s just an edge of pain.)

Oikawa’s coming, collapsing on the sheets, Iwaizumi follows him down, groans at the feeling and Oikawa’s just sighing, shaking, whimpering like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel.

Iwaizumi’s still hard, blowing air over the bite he just made, feeling Oikawa shiver beneath him as he waits for him to come out from his daze, a little. (He needed more than this, needed to Tooru time to recover, couldn’t stop for long.)

“Can I keep going?”

He murmurs into Oikawa’s ear.

“Yes, fuck yes.”

Iwaizumi hardly hears the response, sees Oikawa’s hands curl into the sheets, hardly able to try and get back up. (He fails, falls back down, breathing hard.)

“You’re going to be sore.”

Iwaizumi tries to remind him, tries to hold onto his own restrain when Oikawa’s writhing, still shaking in the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

“If you fuck me like you mean it.”

Oikawa replies, breathy and worn out. He didn’t succeed in trying to tease Iwaizumi, not with his voice cracking. (Was he crying, again?)

“Yeah?”

(Iwaizumi hopes he is, wonders if that’s wrong.)

“ _Move_ , I’ll be really sore anyways.”

Oikawa says, probably trying to sound snappy, deliberately pushing up against Iwaizumi.

“Bossy.”

Iwaizumi mutters, mostly to himself, finally keeps going like his body's begging him to.

He knows he's thrusting into Oikawa hard, he's still down on the sheets almost entirely, elbows having given out on him when he came. (This is too fast, too soon, Oikawa might not be able to take it.)

But, Iwaizumi can watch Oikawa like this, see how flushed he is, watch him squirm weakly. It can't be comfortable, his aching cock against the rough towels he put down earlier, but Oikawa doesn't seem to care, still sighing out, though moaning less from the change in angle.

(Iwaizumi tries to ignore the thoughts wondering if Oikawa was hard again, already, wondering how sensitive he was, after coming twice so far, how his sore nipples felt dragging against his sheets.)

“Hey, Tooru, need you back on up on your knees.”

Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa's trying to reply but Iwaizumi can't tell what he's saying through the pants, and high, whiny moans. (But he knows it’s going to be so much better, he could get so much deeper if Oikawa would just get back up, maybe.)

He's pulling Oikawa up by his hip, back up against Iwaizumi's chest and Oikawa moans, loud, as he's pulled into a particularly forceful thrust. (Bingo.)

Iwaizumi just keeps going, can't and doesn't really want to hold back right now, (can’t,) do anything but fuck Oikawa harder, faster, knot him and feel Oikawa hot and wet around him and hear Oikawa whimper when he comes. He knows he’s being rough, neither of them have much experience, just instinct, basic knowledge, this lacked finesse.

Oikawa wasn’t his, by most terms of the word, but now, maybe, in the moment, maybe. Nothing changed between them, nothing had to, maybe this was the change. He didn’t need that kind of relationship, just needed him. Maybe. That’s what he thought. That’s what he wondered about, last time, pinning Oikawa to his own bed, holding him down, talking down to him as Oikawa squirmed and cried out and came, hard.

Was it still alright if Oikawa liked it? Probably. Oikawa told him to, anyways. Iwaizumi couldn’t shake it, felt responsible, their relationship was unconventional. The way they fucked? Less so. (Oikawa probably hated himself for that, for liking it.) He definitely liked it, though, the way he shook, (beautiful,) asked for more, _took_ it.

(He can see Oikawa's elbows wobbling, feel the tremors running through Oikawa's oversensitive body.)

Oikawa _sobs_ , and that’s Iwaizumi’s breaking point.

He can’t hold back, with a particularly hard snap of his hips, Iwaizumi feels his knot enter Oikawa, heard some kind of moan, doesn’t know which one of them it came from until he hears himself growl, briefly.

Iwaizumi’s barely in and it’s just tight, hot, and so unbelievably _good_ the realization knocked the air from his lungs before Oikawa’s at it again, speaking like the shock knocked him out of whatever headspace he was in.

"It, it feels good,  _Hajime_."

He can’t get his own head around it, not when Tooru’s so tight, and he keeps squirming and clenching and whining out little broken sounds.

"Shh, relax, relax."

Iwaizumi pants, brushing his lips over the nape of Oikawa’s neck. (He was sweaty, they were both so sweaty at this point and it didn’t even matter.)

"Iwa-chan, I, I can’t."

Oikawa whimpers, not quite sure if he wants to arch up against Iwaizumi, stay put, Iwazumi can feel his heartbeat race, (or maybe it’s his own,) and he just can’t stop _talking_ , wanting to go further, get them both right to the edge.

"Ngh, you're so tight, how wide am I stretching you? Does it feel big?"

(Tight, tight, tight. Made his head spin, eyes close. Oikawa was fantastic, great, beautiful, his.)

"Hajime, _don't_."

Oikawa pleads, trying to move away but he can't, Iwaizumi pinning him, making him stay put as he writhes and curls his fingers into the sheets. Poor thing, probably overloaded, overwhelmed, and his. Just his, right now.

"You're close, why don't you come with me?"

" _Please_."

He pleads. Iwaizumi's not sure what Oikawa's asking for, (not even sure Oikawa knows what he's asking for,) maybe just begging for the sake of. Did he need more? Less? Iwaizumi can’t ignore him, trembling, shaking, body so high strung and worked up and breaking down. (Perfect.)

"Your voice is so cute."

Iwaizumi can’t really hold back right now, can’t _think_. (Feels himself beginning to knot, and it’s intense, always is, he can hear his own heartbeat, loud in his ears.)

"Please, I  _can't."_

Oikawa’s whimpering, unintelligible apart from those words. Iwaizumi hears his voice crack, knows he's crying again, and that's all he can take. He shifts his weight a little, sliding a hand down Oikawa's abdomen, slick from his own come (usually it'd be disgusting but right now it's the most arousing thing) to firmly stroke Oikawa’s cock, keep going, trying to get him off, just one more time.

And then Oikawa makes just this soft sound and Iwaizumi's coming, groaning out Oikawa’s name as he feels him tense up.

"Tooru."

Iwaizumi chokes out, not sure whether to close his eyes or keep them open, not sure what to do, how to handle the sensations wracking his body.

He doesn’t know when, but at some point ended up biting at Oikawa’s neck, hard. (Like he wants to mark Tooru, wouldn’t do something so ridiculous like thinking of claiming someone else but he really likes the idea of someone knowing he left that mark.) He can’t think straight, it’s just a mess of good, and need, and wet, and Oikawa, crying and coming apart underneath him and it doesn’t last for long but Iwaizumi can’t keep his head on straight, not while Oikawa’s whimpering like that.

When he comes back to himself, they’ve fallen over to the side, (sweaty, satisfied for now.) He’s still firmly inside Oikawa, holding him in his arms.

(He can’t think easily, like this, everything’s bleary and fuzzy and he’s just so _content._ )

"Ngh, we, probably have to wait for it to go down."

Iwaizumi says, pulling Oikawa closer to him. (He's still shaking.) He only whimpers weakly in response.

"Hey, you okay?"

Iwaizumi asks, face pressing into the sheets behind Oikawa's neck. (Damn him, so lanky.) Oikawa's breathing was still laboured and uneven.

"Ahh, I, uh, ngh."

He mumbled, trying to speak and not quite making it.

"Still sensitive?"

Iwaizumi muttered, nipping at Oikawa's earlobe and getting a breathy, broken sounding gasp in return. Oikawa flinched a little, trying curl away and into himself.

"Stop, just hold me."

Oikawa mutters before settling back against Iwaizumi.He sounded worn out. (That was really hot, for some reason.) It was going to be a long day.

“Alright.”

He was content like this, just holding Oikawa tight to him. (Some chorus in the back of his head chanting “mine”, but drowned out by the rush of affection he felt.) This moment was a haze, his head probably wouldn’t clear for awhile. Oikawa seemed on the verge of passing out.

(Maybe they should just fall asleep like this, nap briefly, worry, continue on later.)

With Oikawa here, his rut would probably only last for a little over a day, some saving grace for anyone in a relationship. (Oikawa might be here for his sake, so he wasn’t out of commission for all that time.) They’d make the most of that time, anyways.

They’d make the most of whatever this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for your support. Just letting you know, I’m often heading back and editing my fics, I’ll probably still be making changes to this chapter, cleaning up lines, adding some things in, smoothing things over for the next few weeks. So, if something seems different, it probably is! I get a little impatient to publish sometimes, so, this might be a little rough around the edges.


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